T 
Y  T  T^1 


LIBRARY 

DIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


THE   STORY 

OF 

ARCHER  ALEXANDER 

FROM  SLAVERY  TO  FREEDOM 

MARCH  30,  1863 
BY 

WILLIAM   G.  ELIOT 

A   MEMBER  OF  THE  WESTERN   SANITARY   COMMISSION 
ST.    LOUIS,   MO. 


"  No  sea 

Swells  like  the  bosom  of  a  man  set  free: 
A  wilderness  is  rich  with  liberty." 

WORDSWORTH 


BOSTON 
CUPPLES,  UPHAM  AND   COMPANY 

©IB  (Corner  i3oofest0re 
1885 


LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OTT  rAT  rtv^ 


Copyright,  by 
WILLIAM  G.  ELIOT, 


ELECTROTYPES 
BY  C.  J.  PETERS  &  SON,  BOSTON. 


TO 

MRS.  JESSIE  BENTON   FREMONT, 

WITHOUT  WHOSE  PERSONAL  SYMPATHY  AND  ACTIVE  INFLUENCE 

THE  WORK  OF  THE  WESTERN  SANITARY  COMMISSION 

COULD    NOT    HAVE     BEEN     BEGUN     NOR 

SUCCESSFULLY    PROSECUTED, 

JPjis  little  iSoofc  is  JHost  ttcgpectfullg  Inscri&eU 

BY 

HER  SINCERE  AND  OBLIGED  FRIEND, 

WILLIAM  GREENLEAF  ELIOT. 
ST.  Louis,  Mo.,  Aug.  5,  1885. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGB 

FREEDOM'S  MEMORIAL n 

I.  KALORAMA,  ARCHER'S  VIRGINIA  HOME  .  17 

II.  THE  DEPARTURE 30 

III.  LIFE  IN  MISSOURI.  — 1833-63 39 

IV.  THE  ESCAPE 47 

V.  THE  CAPTURE 54 

VI.  THE  RESCUE 67 

VII.  SAFETY 74 

VIII.  LOUISA 78 

IX.  FREEDOM  AND  REST 83 

X.  SLAVERY  IN  THE  BORDER  STATES  ...  90 

XL  ELIJAH  P.  LOVEJOY 107 

APPENDIX 117 


PREFACE. 


THE  following  narrative  was  prepared  with- 
out intention  of  publication ;  but  I  have  been 
led  to  think  that  it  may  be  of  use,  not  only 
as  a  reminiscence  of  the  "war  of  secession," 
but  as  a  fair  presentation  of  slavery  in  the 
Border  States  for  the  twenty  or  thirty  years 
preceding  the  outbreak  of  hostilities.  I  am 
confirmed  in  this  view  by  the  fact,  that,  on 
submitting  the  manuscript  to  a  leading  publish- 
ing-house in  a  Northern  city,  it  was  objected 
to,  among  other  reasons,  as  too  tame  to  satisfy 
the  public  taste  and  judgment.  But,  from 
equally  intelligent  parties  in  a  city  farther 
south,  the  exactly  opposite  criticism  was  made, 
as  if  a  too  harsh  judgment  of  slavery  and 
slave-holders  was  conveyed,  so  that  its  publi- 
5 


6          THE   STORY   OF   ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 

cation  would  be  prejudicial  to  those  undertak- 
ing it. 

I  therefore  asked  the  opinion  of  several 
friends,  who,  like  myself,  had  lived  all  those 
years  under  the  shadow  of  the  "  peculiar  insti- 
tution," in  one  or  other  of  the  northern  tier 
of  the  slave  States,  and  who  labored  faith- 
fully for  its  abolition,  giving  the  best  service 
of  their  lives  to  the  cause  of  freedom,  "pos- 
sessing their  souls  in  patience  "  while  contend- 
ing against  what  seemed  to  be  an  irresistible 
power.  Their  concurrence  has  confirmed  me 
in  the  opinion,  that,  however  feebly  drawn,  a 
true  picture,  so  far  as  it  goes,  is  given  in  these 
pages  of  the  relation  between  master  and 
slave,  and  of  the  social  condition  of  slave- 
holding  communities.  Without  claiming  to 
be  more  than  a  plain  story  plainly  told,  it 
shows  things  as  they  were,  and  how  they  were 
regarded  by  intelligent  and  thoughtful  people 
at  the  time. 

Only  those  who  lived  in  the  border  slave 
States  during  that  eventful  period  from  1830 


PREFACE.  7 

to  1860,  can  fully  understand  the  complica- 
tions and  difficulties  of  the  "  irrepressible  con- 
flict," and  how  hard  it  was  fully  to  maintain 
one's  self-respect  under  the  necessities  of  de- 
liberate and  cautious  action ;  to  speak  plainly 
without  giving  such  degree  of  offence  as  would 
prevent  one  from  speaking  at  all.  Yet  it  was 
in  these  States  that  the  first  and  hardest  bat- 
tles for  freedom  were  fought,  and  where  the 
ground  was  prepared  upon  which  the  first  great 
victories  were  won. 

It  is  a  subject  upon  which  I  speak  with 
deep  feeling  ;  for  I  have  known  many  cases  in 
which  those  who  worked  with  faithful  and  self- 
denying  energy  have  been  severely  censured 
for  their  "  temporizing,  time-serving  policy." 
Perhaps,  upon  mature  thought,  it  may  appear 
that  the  man  who  stands  at  safe  distance  from 
the  field  of  battle,  though  he  may  have  a  better 
general  view  of  the  conflict,  is  not  always  the 
best  judge  of  the  hand-to-hand  fight  of  those 
to  whom  the  struggle  is  one  of  life  or  death. 
No  city  or  State  in  the  Union  has  greater 


8          THE   STORY   OF   ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 

reason  to  be  proud  of  its  record   in  the  late 
war  of  secession  than  St.   Louis  and  Missouri. 

Gradually  the  mists  of  partial  knowledge 
clear  away ;  but  it  will  be  many  years  yet  be- 
fore the  North  and  South  will  thoroughly 
understand  each  other,  either  as  to  the  past 
history  of  slavery  or  the  present  relations  of 
the  negro  and  white  races.  Meanwhile  mutual 
forbearance  may  lead  to  increasing  mutual 
affection  and  respect. 


FREEDOM'S    MEMORIAL. 


ABRAHAM   LINCOLN.  — ARCHER  ALEXANDER. 

"And  upon  this  act  I  invoke  the  considerate  judg- 
ment of  mankind  and  the  gracious  favor  of  Almighty 
God."  —  PROCLAMATION  OF  FREEDOM,  Jan.  i,  1863. 

TN  the  capitol  grounds  at  Washington,  D.C., 
*  there  is  a  bronze  group  known  as  "  Free- 
dom's Memorial."  It  represents  President 
Lincoln  in  the  act  of  emancipating  a  negro 
slave,  who  kneels  at  his  feet  to  receive  the 
benediction,  but  whose  hand  has  grasped  the 
chain  as  if  in  the  act  of  breaking  it,  indi- 
cating the  historical  fact  that  the  slaves  took 
active  part  in  their  own  deliverance. 

A  brief  history  of  this  memorial,  taken  from 
the  full  account  published  at  the  time  of  its 
dedication  when  unveiled  by  President  U.  S. 
Grant,  April  14,  1876,  is  as  follows. 

Soon  after  Mr.  Lincoln's  assassination,  Char- 
lotte Scott,  an  emancipated  slave,  brought  five 
dollars  to  her  former  master,  Mr.  William  P. 
ii 


12        THE    STORY    OF    ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 

Rucker,  then  a  Union  refugee  from  Virginia, 
and  residing  in  Marietta,  O.  It  was  her  first 
earnings  as  a  free  woman,  and  she  begged 
that  it  might  be  used  "  to  make  a  monument 
to  Massa  Lincoln,  the  best  friend  the  colored 
people  ever  had."  Mr.  Rucker  placed  it  in 
the  hands  of  General  T.  H.  C.  Smith,  who 
forwarded  it  to  Mr.  James  E.  Yeatman,  presi- 
dent of  the  Western  Sanitary  Commission  of 
St.  Louis,  with  the  'following  letter :  — 

ST.  Louis,  April  26,  1865. 
JAMES  E.  YEATMAN,  Esq. 

My  Dear  Sir,  —  A  poor  woman  of  Marietta,  O., 
one  of  those  made  free  by  President  Lincoln's  procla- 
mation, proposes  that  a  monument  to  their  dead  friend 
be  erected  by  the  colored  people  of  the  United  States. 
She  has  handed  to  a  person  in  Marietta  five  dollars  as 
her  contribution  for  the  purpose.  Such  a  monument 
would  have  a  history  more  grand  and  touching  than  any 
of  which  we  have  account.  Would  it  not  be  well  to 
take  up  this  suggestion,  and  make  it  known  to  the  freed- 
men  ?  Yours  truly, 

T.  H.  C.  SMITH. 

The  suggestion  was  cordially  accepted,  and 
a  circular  letter  was  published  inviting  all 
freedmen  to  send  contributions  for  the  pur- 
pose to  the  Commission  in  St.  Louis.  In  re- 
sponse, liberal  sums  were  received  from  colored 
soldiers  under  command  of  General  J.  W. 


FREEDOM  S    MEMORIAL.  13 

Davidson  (headquarters  at  Natchez,  Miss.), 
amounting  to  $12,150,  which  was  soon  in- 
creased from  other  sources  to  $16,242.  Then 
came  a  revulsion  of  feeling,  from  various 
causes,  after  the  accession  of  President  John- 
son, which  checked  the  movement,  and  it 
could  not  afterwards  be  renewed.  The  amount 
was  entirely  inadequate  to  the  accomplishment 
of  any  great  work ;  but  it  was  put  at  interest, 
and  held  with  an  indefinite  hope  of  its  enlarge- 
ment. 

In  the  summer  of  1869,  I  was  in  Florence, 
Italy ;  and  at  the  rooms  of  Thomas  Ball,  sculp- 
tor, I  saw  a  group  in  marble  which  he  had 
designed  and  executed  immediately  after  Presi- 
dent Lincoln's  death.  It  had  been  done  under 
the  strong  impulse  of  the  hour,  with  no  special 
end  in  view,  except  to  express  the  magnificent 
act  which  had  given  new  birth  to  his  country, 
and  for  which  the  beloved  and  heroic  leader 
had  suffered  martyrdom.  When  I  told  him 
what  we  were  trying  to  do,  and  of  our  tempo- 
rary failure,  he  said  at  once,  with  enthusiasm, 
that  the  group  was  at  our  service  if  it  suited 
us,  and  that  its  cost  should  be  only  for  the 
actual  labor  of  reproducing  it  at  the  royal 
foundry  in  Munich,  in  bronze,  colossal  size,  all 


14       THE    STORY    OF   ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 

of  which  he  would  gratuitously  superintend 
himself.  When  told  of  the  sum  actually  in 
hand,  he  said  it  was  amply  sufficient. 

Accordingly  I  had  photographs  taken,  and 
carried  them  home  with  me.  The  Commission 
thankfully  adopted  them,  with  one  suggestion 
of  change,  that  instead  of  the  ideal  figure  of 
a  slave  wearing  a  liberty  cap,  and  receiving  the 
gift  of  freedom  passively,  as  in  the  original 
marble  group,  the  representative  form  of  a 
negro  should  be  introduced,  helping  to  break 
the  chain  that  had  bound  him.  Mr.  Ball 
kindly  assented.  Photographic  pictures  of 
ARCHER  ALEXANDER,  a  fugitive  slave,  were 
sent  to  him ;  and  in  the  present  group  his 
likeness,  both  face  and  figure,  is  as  correct  as 
that  of  Mr.  Lincoln  himself.  The  ideal  group 
is  thus  converted  into  the  literal  truth  of  his- 
tory without  losing  its  artistic  conception  or 
effect.  A  duplicate  of  the  group  was  given  by 
Moses  Kimball  to  the  city  of  Boston,  and 
stands  in  Park  Square.  It  was  dedicated 
Dec.  u,  1879,  having  been  cast  in  Munich  at 
the  royal  foundry,  under  direction  of  the  same 
persons  who  cast  the  original  group.  But, 
from  some  cause,  it  is  by  no  means  equal  in 
artistic  effect  to  that  in  Washington. 


FREEDOM'S  MEMORIAL.  15 

The  story  of  Archer,  given  in  the  following 
pages,  is  substantially  a  correct  narrative  of 
facts  as  learned  from  him,  and  in  all  the  im- 
portant particulars  as  coming  under  my  own 
immediate  knowledge.  He  was  the  last  fugi- 
tive slave  captured  under  civil  law  in  Missouri. 

It  is  written  at  the  request  of  my  children, 
for  the  benefit  of  my  grandchildren,  that  they 
may  know  something  of  what  slavery  was,  and 
of  the  negro  character  under  its  influence. 


THE   STORY 

OF 

ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 


CHAPTER   I. 

KALORAMA,  ARCHER'S   VIRGINIA   HOME. 

A  BOUT  twenty-five  or  thirty  miles  from 
•**•  Richmond,  Va.,  in  the  year  1828,  a  fam- 
ily was  living  in  the  old-fashioned  hospitable 
Virginia  gentleman-farmer  style,  on  a  place 
of  some  three  hundred  acres,  which  the  young 
folks  called  Kalorama,  because  of  the  beauti- 
ful outlook  from  the  old  homestead,  although 
the  name  was  not  used  except  in  the  immediate 
neighborhood. 

The  proprietor  was  a  man  of  some  conse- 
quence, the  Rev.  Mr.  Delaney,  who  had  been, 
before  his  marriage,  in  active  discharge  of  his 
duties  as  a  Presbyterian  minister,  but  had  re- 
tired from  all  except  occasional  services  of 
special  interest,  although  still  familiarly  called 
parson  or  doctor  by  his  neighbors.  His  wife, 
who  brought  him  the  property,  was  a  lady  of 


l8        THE    STORY    OF   ARCHER    ALEXANDER. 

great  excellence,  belonging  to  one  of  the  best 
families  of  the  State,  —  a  warm-hearted,  devout 
woman,  a  good  manager,  a  faithful  wife  and 
mother.  At  the  time  of  which  I  write,  two 
sons  and  three  daughters  were  growing  up,  the 
oldest  of  them  eighteen  years  of  age.  There 
were  ten  or  twelve  families  of  slaves,  number- 
ing, in  all,  about  seventy  "head,"  old  and 
young. 

Upon  one  subject  Mrs.  Delaney  was  abso- 
lutely fixed.  While  believing  that  slavery  was 
a  divine  institution,  sanctioned  by  scripture 
from  the  time  when  "  Cursed  be  Ham  "  was 
spoken,  down  to  the  return  of  the  fugitive 
slave  Onesimus  by  the  apostle  Paul,  —  sub- 
jects on  which  her  husband  had  eloquently 
preached,  —  yet  she  felt  deeply  through  her 
whole  nature,  as  most  of  the  well-born  South- 
ern women  did,  that  there  was  a  trust  involved 
for  which  the  slave-owner  was  responsible  to 
God  almost  as  sacredly  as  for  his  own  children. 
To  all  separation  of  families,  therefore,  except 
at  their  own  choice  or  as  a  penalty  for  wrong- 
doing, she  was  firmly  opposed.  It  had  seldom 
occurred  on  the  place,  and  she  said  it  never 
should  occur  if  she  could  help  it.  She  had 
also  succeeded  in  convincing,  or  at  least  in 


KALORAMA,  ARCHER'S  VIRGINIA   HOME.       19 

persuading,  her  husband  to  the  same  effect. 
But  he  wavered  sometimes,  under  the  press- 
ure for  money,  and  had  even  suggested  the 
wisdom  of  selling  off  a  few  so  as  better  to 
provide  for  the  remainder. 

Only  once,  however,  had  he  distinctly  over- 
stepped the  line,  and  that  was  a  signal  in- 
stance. It  was  in  the  case  of  a  man  named 
Aleck,  a  full  black,  forty-five  years  old,  strong, 
stalwart,  intelligent;  in  fact,  his  very  best 
"hand."  Somehow  or  other,  this  fellow  had 
learned  to  read.  Nobody  knew  how,  but 
probably  from  the  children  and  by  chance 
opportunities.  A  good  deal  of  discussion 
about  slavery  was  going  on  at  the  time,  which 
was  not  very  far  from  the  Missouri  compromise 
days ;  and  Aleck  had  got  some  advanced  no- 
tions of  which  he  was  rather  proud,  talking 
them  out  rather  freely  among  his  fellows.  In 
fact,  "  he  made  himself  altogether  too  smart." 
At  a  colored  prayer-meeting  he  had  gone  so 
far  as  to  say  that  "  by  the  'Claration  of  'De- 
pendence all  men  was  ekal,"  and  that  "to 
trade  in  men  and  women,  jess  like  hogs  and 
hosses,  wasn't  'cordin'  to  gospel,  nohow." 

Of  course,  such  talk  as  this  would  not  do. 
It  spread  among  the  colored  folk,  and  the 


20       THE    STORY    OF    ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 

white  people  began  to  hear  of  it.  One  of  Mr. 
Delaney's  neighbors  came  to  see  him  about  it, 
and  after  a  while  a  committee  of  church-mem- 
bers called  upon  him  with  a  formal  expostula- 
tion. They  urged  upon  him  that  his  duty  as  a 
Christian  man  required  that  he  should  send 
Aleck  South ;  "  that  it  was  not  doing  to  his 
neighbors  as  he  would  be  done  by,  to  keep 
such  a  mischief-maker  there ;  that  a  slave  in- 
surrection would  be  the  next  thing." 

Mr.  Delaney,  being  a  good  Christian,  and 
believing  in  the  divine  authority  for  slavery, 
saw  the  justice  of  what  was  said.  He  knew 
that  such  notions  as  Aleck's  were  fanatical,  and 
subversive  of  social  order.  "  Servants,  obey 
your  masters,"  was  good  scripture  ;  and  he  was 
Greek  scholar  enough  to  know  that,  in  the 
original,  "  servant "  meant  bond-servant  or 
slave.  So  he  talked  with  Aleck  and  threat- 
ened him,  but  it  did  little  good.  Aleck  kept 
at  his  work,  but  his  mind  was  working  too. 
He  was  getting  spoilt  for  slavery.  As  Deacon 
Snodgrass  emphatically  said,  "  he  was  a  demor- 
alized nigger." 

Still  his  kind  mistress  pleaded  for  him. 
"  Don't  sell  him  if  you  can  help  it.  Chloe 
will  go  distracted  if  you  do ;  and  her  boy 


KALORAMA,  ARCHER'S  VIRGINIA  HOME.       21 

Archer,  that  his  young  master  thinks  so  much 
of,  will  take  it  so  hard ! "  Even  she  wavered, 
as  her  manner  of  pleading  showed.  She  had 
begun  to  think  of  this  sale  as  a  necessity. 

Unfortunately,  Mr.  Delaney  was  in  debt. 
He  owed  a  good  deal  of  money,  for  the  farm 
had  not  been  well  managed.  His  neighbors 
said  he  was  "  too  easy  on  his  niggers,"  for  that. 
A  suit  had  gone  against  him  for  fifteen  hundred 
dollars,  on  which  judgment  was  given  and  exe- 
cution issued.  He  went  to  Richmond  to  ar- 
range it  and  Aleck  drove  him  down,  as  he  had 
often  done  before  ;  for  he  was  a  fine-looking 
fellow  and  his  master  was  proud  of  him. 
They  stopped  on  Grace  Street,  at  the  house  of 
his  creditor,  who  came  to  the  door,  praised  the 
horses  and,  with  an  eye  to  business,  closely 
scrutinized  the  driver.  When  they  went  in 
and  had  pledged  each  other,  according  to  the 
hospitable  notions  of  the  times,  in  stiff  glasses 
of  good  old  whiskey,  Colonel  Jones  poured 
out  a  glassful  and  took  it  with  his  own  hands 
to  Aleck,  —  an  unusual  courtesy,  at  which  the 
chattel  was  astonished  ;  but  it  gave  the  colonel 
a  good  opportunity  of  satisfying  himself  that 
the  man  was  sound  in  life  and  limb.  "  Well, 
Aleck,"  he  said,  "your  master  hasn't  sold  you 


22        THE    STORY   OF   ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 

yet.  I've  heard  talk  of  it."  —  "  No,  sir,"  said 
he.  "  Massa  ain't  a-goin'  to  do  it,  nudder. 
He'd  most  as  lib  sell  one  of  his  own  chilluns." 
—  "All  right,"  said  the  colonel,  "you  just  hold 
on  to  that."  Aleck  showed  his  teeth,  and 
looked  greatly  pleased. 

As  soon  as  the  colonel  went  in,  Mr.  Delaney 
began  to  apologize  for  delays,  and  to  ask  for 
further  time.  But  the  colonel  had  made  up 
his  mind,  and  answered  abruptly,  "  Now,  I  tell 
you  what,  parson  [creditors  with  law  on  their 
side  are  apt  to  take  liberties],  there  ain't  no 
use  in  this  kind  of  talk.  Cash  is  the  word. 
But  I  tell  you  how  we  can  fix  it,  short  metre. 
You  just  give  me  a  bill  of  sale  for  that  nigger 
Aleck  out  there,  and  it's  done.  He's  a  sassy 
boy  and  will  get  you  into  a  big  scrape  some 
day;  and  you'd  better  get  shet  of  him,  any- 
way, for  your  own  good  and  for  the  good  of 
the  country.  There  now,  parson,  the  way  I 
look  at  it,  your  religion  and  your  pocket  are 
on  the  same  side.  What  do  you  say?  But 
one  thing's  sure :  money  or  its  equiv-a-lent 
I'm  a-going  to  have,  down  on  the  nail.  There 
ain't  no  two  ways  about  that." 

Mr.  Delaney  hesitated  and  pleaded.  He 
concluded  to  stay  over  night  with  his  consid- 


KALORAMA,  ARCHER'S  VIRGINIA  HOME.      23 

erate  friend.  His  duty  seemed  to  him  plain 
enough;  but  his  feelings  rebelled,  and  the 
thought  of  his  wife  increased  the  weakness. 
But  he  prayed  over  it  at  night,  and  again  in  the 
morning.  His  mind  gradually  cleared  up,  es- 
pecially when,  after  breakfast,  the  accounts 
were  laid  before  him  and  the  necessity  of 
speedy  action  became  plain. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  Aleck  ?  " 
he  asked,  unconsciously  betraying  that  the  de 
cision  was  already  made.  "Why,  now,"  an- 
swered the  colonel  with  an  emphatic  gesture, 
"that's  just  where  it  is.  There's  a  kind  of 
prov-i-dence  in  it.  Here's  my  neighbor,  Jim 
Buckner,  that's  making  up  a  gang  to  go  South, 
and  he  wants  a  fancy  nigger  for  a  customer  in 
Charleston,  and  he  knows  Aleck  and  told  me 
to  get  him  and  he'd  pay  judgment  and  costs. 
It's  an  awful  big  price,  but  he's  as  rich  as 
creases  and  don't  care.  Such  a  chance 
wouldn't  never  happen  again  in  a  lifetime, 
and  Aleck  would  have  a  first-rate  master  be- 
sides. But  he'll  have  to  hold  his  impudent 
jaw  down  there,  I  tell  you" 

It  came  hard,  but  the  bill  of  sale  was  signed, 
and  the  debt  paid.  Every  thing  was  done  as 
Colonel  Jones  said,  "  quiet  and  civil,  and  with- 


24       THE   STORY   OF  ARCHER  ALEXANDER. 

out  fuss.  What's  the  use  of  hurting  the  boy's 
feelings,  and  your'n  too,  when  it's  got  to  be 
done  ? "  So  Aleck  was  sent  on  a  pretended 
errand  to  a  place  near  the  slave-jail,  taken 
quietly  by  Jim  Buckner  and  his  men,  hand- 
cuffed, carried  South  the  same  evening,  and 
nobody  at  Kalorama  ever  heard  of  him  again. 
It  was  his  death  and  burial. 

The  next  day  Mr.  Delaney  returned  home, 
arriving  late  in  the  evening.  Great  was  the 
excitement  when  it  was  known  that  Aleck  had 
been  sold  South  "  to  pay  massa's  debts,"  and 
had  gone  off  with  Buckner's  gang.  Poor 
Chloe,  his  wife,  was  dumfounded.  She  sat 
down,  rocked  her  body  backward  and  forward, 
and  groaned  aloud,  "  O  Lord  God,  oh,  dear 
Jesus,  what  has  ole  massa  gone  and  done  !  O 
Lord  Jesus,  whar  was  you  when  he  done  it !  " 
But  there  was  no  help  for  it,  no  hope  for  her. 
The  next  day's  work  must  go  on  :  so  she  cooked 
and  washed  as  usual,  heavy-hearted  but  silent. 

"  You  see  how  it  is,"  said  Deacon  Snod- 
grass ;  "  these  niggers  don't  have  no  feelings 
like  white  folks.  Anyhow,  it's  only  as  if  her 
old  man  had  died.  The  thing  happens  every 
day,  and  has  got  to  happen.  It's  the  order  of 
Prov-i-dence." 


KALORAMA,  ARCHER'S  VIRGINIA   HOME.       25 

Mrs.  Delaney  was  deeply  grieved.  The 
young  master,  Thomas,  took  it  hardest  at  first, 
and  said  right  out,  "  it  was  a  damned  shame." 
But  his  father  rebuked  his  profanity,  and  ex- 
plained the  case  to  him  as  one  of  unavoidable 
Christian  duty.  Aleck's  son  Archer  was  too 
young  to  understand  it ;  but  he  kept  close  to 
his  mother,  who,  after  that,  never  liked  to  lose 
sight  of  him.  The  neighbors  generally  said 
it  was  a  good  thing ;  "  that  Delaney's  niggers 
had  got  too  uppish,  and  would  now  be  brought 
down  a  peg.  It  was  high  time  for  an  ex- 
ample." 

Two  years  had  already  passed  since  that 
"  taking  down  a  peg  "  had  occurred ;  but,  on 
the  whole,  things  had  not  improved.  The 
farm  kept  deteriorating  in  value,  worn  out  by 
exhausting  crops  of  corn  and  tobacco.  One 
of  the  hands  ran  away  and  escaped.  Another 
who  tried  it,  with  his  wife  and  child,  was  caught 
and  brought  back;  but  they  had  suffered  so 
much  from  exposure  and  in  the  struggle  with 
their  captors,  who  had  an  unmanageable  dog 
with  them,  that  they  were  never  of  much  ac- 
count afterwards.  From  such  experience  the 
rest  could  not  fail  to  learn  the  wisdom  of  sub- 
mission and  contentment.  Yet  a  spirit  of 


26       THE  STORY   OF   ARCHER  ALEXANDER. 

uneasiness  prevailed,  so  unreasoning  is  the 
African  mind.  The  increasing  probability  of 
being  sold  South,  and  the  difficulty  of  running 
away,  did  not  seem  to  have  a  soothing  influ- 
ence. 

In  1831  Mr.  Delaney  died  suddenly,  leav- 
ing no  will  and  many  debts.  The  estate  was 
administered  upon,  and  about  one-half  the 
land,  with  three  or  four  families  of  slaves,  were 
sold  to  pay  the  pressing  debts.  The  rest  of 
the  property  was  divided,  under  the  law,  among 
the  widow  and  children.  In  this  division 
Chloe  fell  to  the  widow's  share ;  her  boy 
Aicher,  now  eighteen  years  old,  to  the  "young 
master,"  Mrs.  Delaney's  oldest  son.  But 
Chloe,  Aleck's  "widow,"  had  run  down  very 
sadly.  It  really  seemed  almost  as  if  she  had 
had  feelings  like  white  people,  and  Aleck's 
being  sold  South  was  in  some  way  or  other 
very  different  to  her  from  a  divine  dispensa- 
tion of  bereavement.  A  clergyman  talked 
with  her ;  but  when  he  said,  "  The  Lord  gave, 
and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away ;  blessed  be  the 
name  of  the  Lord,"  —  she  said  with  sobs,  "O 
Lord,  massa !  please  don't  talk  dat  way !  I 
can't  see  it,  nohow ! "  She  was  no  longer 
cheerful  and  full  of  jokes,  but  stolid  and  heavy- 


KALORAMA,  ARCHER'S   VIRGINIA  HOME.       27 

hearted,  taking  no  interest  in  any  thing  except 
her  boy  Archie.  It  was  not  long  before  she 
had  to  lose  him  too,  though  not  by  death. 

Mrs.  Delaney's  eldest  son,  Thomas,  whom 
Chloe  had  nursed  in  his  infancy,  made  up  his 
mind  to  emigrate  to  Missouri,  the  new  land  of 
promise  in  the  West.  His  mother  and  the 
rest  of  the  family  would  stay  in  the  old  place. 
He  quietly  made  all  his  arrangements,  sent 
part  of  his  valuables  forward  to  Guyandotte  to 
wait  for  him  there,  and  when  quite  ready,  one 
day  after  dinner,  told  Archer,  his  foster-brother, 
to  saddle  up  the  horses  and  get  ready  for  a 
start,  so  as  to  make  twenty  miles  before  night 
set  in. 

Of  course,  the  old  tradition  of  not  separating 
families  had  been  broken  up,  in  the  settlement 
of  the  estate.  The  law  is  no  respecter  of  per- 
sons or  feelings.  It  allows  little  place  for 
sentiment,  and  the  family  plate  is  worth  the 
silver  in  it ;  no  more.  Every  thing  had  been 
appraised  at  its  value,  slaves  included ;  and,  if 
families  could  not  be  kept  together,  it  was  no- 
body's fault.  They  were  sold  under  the  ham- 
mer, "  to  the  best  advantage." 

It  is  a  great  mistake  to  suppose  that  the 
chief  hardships  of  slavery  consisted  in  acts  of 


28        THE    STORY    OF   ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 

severity  or  cruelty.  Such  did  frequently  occur, 
for  irresponsible  power  over  an  inferior  race  is 
sure  to  result  in  its  abuse ;  but  they  were  the 
comparatively  rare  exceptions,  and  in  no  part 
of  the  South  were  they  the  rule.  The  vast 
majority  of  slave-owners  ameliorated  the  con- 
dition of  slavery ;  that  is,  so  far  as  they  con- 
veniently could,  consistently  with  their  own 
interests,  the  maintenance  of  subordination, 
and  a  friendly  regard  to  the  rights  of  their 
neighbors.  They  looked  carefully  after  the 
comfort  of  their  "  families "  up  to  a  certain 
point,  treated  them  with  humanity  and  some- 
times with  indulgence  and  tenderness.  Never- 
theless they  were  "chattels"  (Anglice,  "cat- 
tle "),  —  in  the  eye  of  the  law,  property  subject 
to  seizure  and  sale.  The  exigencies  of  debt, 
so  common  in  the  unthrifty  Southern  manage- 
ment ;  the  death  of  the  owner,  and  consequent 
necessity  of  dividing  the  estate ;  the  commis- 
sion of  faults  of  impudence  or  petty  criminal- 
ity, to  say  nothing  of  the  whims  and  caprices 
of  the  master  or  mistress,  —  all  were  common 
and  lawful  causes  of  trouble.  Over  the  best 
and  most  pampered  slave  the  sword  of  uncer- 
tainty always  hung,  suspended  by  an  invisible 
hair;  from  which  it  came  to  pass,  that,  under 


KALORAMA,    ARCHER'S   VIRGINIA    HOME.       29 

the  best  of  circumstances,  the  best  condition 
of  slavery  was  worse  than  the  worst  condition 
of  freedom.  The  blacks  are  a  docile  and 
easily  controlled  race.  Subordination  does 
not  come  hard  to  them.  But  at  this  moment,  — 
twenty  years  after  they  have  had  the  trial  of 
freedom,  trammelled  as  it  has  been  by  not  a 
few  hardships  and  social  oppressions,  and  by 
greater  cruelties  in  some  sections  than  slavery 
itself  witnessed,  —  I  doubt  if  a  man  or  woman 
could  be  found  who  would  exchange  freedom, 
such  as  it  is,  for  the  old  relation  under  the 
best  master  that  ever  lived. 

Six  months  after  Archer's  going,  Chloe,  his 
mother,  died.  There  was  no  special  disease  ; 
but  "she  kind-a  fell  off,"  as  the  colored  peo- 
ple expressed  it.  "  She  didn't  take  no  hand 
in  nothin',  like  she  used  to  ; "  did  her  work 
faithfully,  but  "  seemed  to  be  a  thinkin'  about 
something  and  prayed  powerful."  Her  kind- 
hearted  mistress  said  she  never  got  over 
Aleck's  being  sold  South,  and  just  grieved 
herself  to  death  ;  but  Deacon  Snodgrass,  who 
"  understood  niggers,"  said  that  she  was  "  the 
obstinatist  nigger-wench  he  ever  knew." 


CHAPTER   II. 

THE   DEPARTURE. 

'"THE  sudden  bustle  of  the  final  getting-ready 
stirred  up  the  household.  The  family 
partings  were  made  between  Mrs.  Delaney  and 
her  son.  Very  sad  and  bitter  they  were ;  but 
the  old  lady  knew  it  was  best  for  Thomas,  and 
so  she  gave  him  her  blessing  and  was  resigned. 
Then  "young  massa"  went  out  and  shook 
hands  with  all  the  people,  every  one  of  whom 
loved  him,  for  he  had  been  kind  to  all  of  them. 
He  gave  them  some  trifling  gratuities,  and  told 
them  to  behave  themselves  first-rate  till  he 
came  back.  Then,  last  of  all,  he  looked  for  his 
old  nurse  Chloe,  who  was  at  the  door  of  her 
cabin,  and  shook  hands  with  her,  and  promised 
to  take  good  care  of  Archie,  and  to  fetch  him 
back  some  day  to  see  her.  He  gave  her  a  new 
calico  gown,  for  which  she  "thanked  him 
kindly."  In  fact,  she  had  no  hard  feelings 
towards  him.  He  was  only  doing  what  he  had 
a  right  to  do  ;  and  "  mebby  it's  the  best  thing 
30 


THE    DEPARTURE.  3! 

for  the  boy ;  and  de  good  Lord,  he  knows  best 
what's  good  for  all  on  us."  She  seemed  to 
feel  very  much  as  Mrs.  Delaney  did,  though  of 
course  no  one  would  have  ventured  to  make 
so  absurd  a  comparison  between  a  slave  woman 
and  her  lady  mistress.  But  there  she  stood ; 
and,  when  her  young  master  turned  away,  the 
tears  were  running  down  her  cheeks. 

As  for  Archie,  boylike,  he  was  full  of  ex- 
citement. He  ran  up  to  kiss  his  mammy,  told 
her  he  was  going  to  ride  "  Shirley,"  the  old 
master's  favorite  horse,  and  Master  Thomas 
was  to  ride  "  Major,"  and  they  were  most 
ready  to  start.  She  tried  to  look  pleased,  but 
the  tears  kept  coming.  "  Well,  go  way,  chile  ; 
come  back  to  see  de  ole  place  ef  you  kin. 
Mebby  you'll  fine  me  here."  She  sat  down 
on  the  stoop,  and  he  was  off  in  a  minute  on  a 

run. 

A  MOTHER'S  LOVE. 

Forty-eight  years  after  that  day,  Archer  him- 
self told  me  of  it.  He  was  then  nearly  sev- 
enty years  old,  failing  very  fast,  about  three 
months  before  he  died.  I  had  often  talked 
with  him  about  his  old  home ;  but  he  had  said 
almost  nothing  about  his  mother,  until  one 
day,  as  he  was  half-working  on  my  grass-plot 


32        THE    STORY   OF   ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 

with  his  sickle,  I  asked  him  if  he  remembered 
her.  "  Yes,  sir,"  he  answered  very  slowly  and 
solemnly,  first  looking  at  me,  and  then  higher 
up,  with  his  face  raised.  "  Yes,  sir,  I  remem- 
bers her  like  yesterday.  Seems  like  I  never 
forgets  her,  nohow.  'Specially  when  trouble 
comes,  and  I've  had  a  heap  of  that, — thank 
the  Lord,  —  seems  like  she  allays  come  to  me 
—  not  close  up  to  me,  but  jess  like  she  was 
when  I  seed  her  the  last  time  ;  and  she's  allays 
a-prayin'  for  me.  That's  what  keeps  me  up." 

There  was  something  peculiar  in  his  man- 
ner, for  to  the  pious  negro  there  are  no  reali- 
ties like  those  of  faith  ;  and  I  asked  him  to  tell 
me  more  about  it.  He  hesitated  a  moment, 
and  then  said,  "  Yes,  sir,  I  think  I  kin.  I  can't 
allays  talk  about  it,  but  it  'pears  like  it  would 
do  me  good  now."  He  sat  down  on  his  wheel- 
barrow, while  I  stood  by  him,  under  the  shade 
of  a  tree  that  he  had  helped  me  to  plant  ten 
years  before. 

"You  see,  sir,  after  ole  Mr.  Delaney  died, 
and  the  family  was  all  broke  up,  like  what  I 
was  tellin'  you  one  day,  the  place  wasn't  big 
enough  to  keep  all  on  us ;  and  young  Mr. 
Thomas  he  thote  to  come  West,  and  he  was 
bound  to  take  me,  'cause  he  liked  me,  and  I 


THE   DEPARTURE.  33 

liked  him  ;  and  I  belonged  to  him,  anyhow,  as  a 
part  of  his  sheer.  Well,  one  day,  on  a  sud- 
dent-like,  he  up  and  quit.  He  said  good-by  to 
eberybody,  and  I  kissed  my  mammy,  and  was 
most  crazy  with  'citement  'kase  Massa  Tom 
had  chose  me  to  go  along  wid  him,  and  to  ride 
his  favorite  hoss  '  Shirley ; '  and  I  didn't 
know  what  a  big  fool  I  was. 

"  I  leff  my  mammy  —  that  ar  was  Chloe,  the 
ole  missus'  favorite  cook  —  a-settin'  on  the 
door-step,  and  I  didn't  seem  to  keer  no  more 
about  it  than  ef  I  was  goin'  away  for  a  week. 
But  she  keered.  Then,  when  we  went  down  to 
the  gate  that  one  of  the  boys  was  thar  to  open, 
suthin'  came  inside  of  me,  right  here  [laying 
his  hand  on  his  breast],  and  said  to  me,  *  Archie, 
^ou're  leaving  your  mother  for  good.  You 
won't  neber  see  her  no  mo'.'  Then  I  turned 
round  to  see  whar  she  was.  And  thar  she 
stood,  front  of  her  own  white-washed  cabin, 
whar  I  was  born ;  and  both  her  hands  was 
raised  up,  this  way ;  and  she  was  lookin'  up, 
and  the  sun  shined  on  her,  and  I  could  see  her 
face  plain,  and  it  looked  bright-like  round  her 
head,  and  I  knowed  she  was  a-prayin'  for  me. 
I  knowed  it  jess  as  well  as  ef  I  heerd  it.  I 
kep'  looking  so  long  that  Massa  Tom  got  a 


34       THE   STORY   OF   ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 

good  bit  away ;  and  he  turned  and  spoke  up 
sharplike,  '  Come,  hurry  up  thar !  What  you 
lookin'  at  thar  like  a  stuck  pig?'  So  I  turns 
round  and  rode  up  to  him,  but  my  'citement 
was  all  gone.  'Feared  like  I  weighed  twice  as 
much  on  the  hoss  as  I  did  before,  and  I 
could'nt  say  nuthin'.  'Why,  what's  up, 
Archie  ? '  young  massa  said  :  *  have  you  seen 
a  ghost  ? '  — '  No,  sir,  I  ain't,'  I  said  to  him  ; 
'but  I  seen  my  mammy,  and  she  was  a-prayin' 
for  me.'  — '  Well,'  said  he,  keerless-like,  *  that's 
all  right.  Your  mother  will  pray  for  you,  and 
mine  will  pray  for  me.'  —  'Yes,  Massa  Tom, 
that's  so.' 

"  You  see,  sir,  my  young  massa  was  mighty 
good  to  me.  He  knowed  I  felt  bad,  and 
wanted  to  keep  my  heart  up.  But  I  couldn't 
do  it,  nohow.  That  night  we  stopped  at 
Jake  Appier's  tavern,  and  I  dreamed  all  night 
of  my  pore  ole  mammy.  But  arter  that  I 
didn't  think  hardly  no  mo'  about  it.  I  was 
drefful  busy  all  the  time,  and  when  we  got  to 
the  river  at  Guyandotte,  and  on  the  boat,  there 
was  a  heap  to  see.  But  at  Louisville,  whar  we 
stopped  two  days,  I  seed  her  agin." 

He  paused  for  a  moment  as  if  to  collect  his 
thoughts.  He  was  evidently  telling  what  was 
to  him  literal  and  sacred  truth. 


THE    DEPARTURE.  35 

"Massa  Tom,  he  leff  me  waitin'  for  him  in 
a  bar-room,  —  you  see  he  trusted  me  anywhar, 
—  and  some  men  thar  was  mighty  civil,  and 
give  me  a  drink,  and  got  me  to  laughin',  and  I 
was  goin'  it  strong.  All  at  once  sumfm  come 
over  me.  I  looked  out  of  the  winder  (it  was 
jess  beginnin'  to  be  darkish),  and  thar,  plain 
as  I  see  you  —  thar  she  was,  away  off,  stanin' 
front  of  her  whitewash  door,  de  light  shinin' 
on  her  face  and  all  aroun'  her,  and  her  hands 
up,  a-prayin'  for  me,  —  seemed  like  I  heerd 
her,  — '  Lord  Jesus,  save  my  boy.'  I  sot  down 
the  glass.  '  Gentlemen,  'skuse  me.  I  speck 
my  massa's  callin'  for  me,  and  I'se  bound  to 
go.'  When  I  tole  Massa  Tom  how  kind  them 
men  was  to  me,  he  was  orful  mad.  He  said 
they  was  dealers,  the  damn  rascals,  and,  ef  they 
had  only  got  you  drunk,  they'd  'ducted  you  in 
no  time,  and  sole  you  South.  But  I  didn't 
tell  him  it  was  my  mammy  that  saved  me."  It 
is  impossible  to  express  the  tenderness  with 
which  he  said  this. 

"  Well,  sir,  it  was  a  long  time  after  that 
afore  I  thote  serious  about  any  thing ;  for,  arter 
we  got  to  St.  Louis,  I  was  worked  in  the  brick- 
yard, and  nothing  much  went  wrong  wid  me. 
But  there  come  round  thar  a  'vival  Metherdus 


36       THE   STORY   OF   ARCHER  ALEXANDER. 

preacher,  and  I  went  to  hear  him.  He  talked 
mighty  strong,  persuadin'  to  come  to  Jesus; 
but  somehow  it  didn't  'press  me  much.  He 
called  for  them  as  wanted  to  be  prayed  for  to 
come  forrard,  but  I  got  up  to  go  home.  Jess 
then,  seemed  like  I  heerd  my  mammy  a-prayin', 
1  Lord  Jesus,  don't  let  him  go  ! '  Shore  enough, 
right  out  in  the  dark  night  I  seed  her,  plain  as 
day,  her  hands  like  they  was  befo',  prayin'  for 
me.  I  jess  give  in  and  went  straight  up  to  the 
altar,  and  afore  the  week  was  gone  I  found 
Jesus ;  and,  bless  the  Lord,  I'se  stuck  to  him 
ever  sense.  But  it  was  my  mammy  that  done 
it. 

"  It's  a  long  time  ago,  and  I  haven't  seen 
her  plain  till  lately;  but  now,  ebery  night 
mose,  she  comes  in  my  sleep,  allays  a-prayin' 
for  me,  and  her  looks  is  pleasant.  She's  dead 
long  ago,  and  gone  to  glory.  I  never  heerd 
nuthin'  certain  about  it ;  but,  sir,  I'm  thinkin' 
I  sha'n't  be  here  long  now.  Please  the  Lord, 
she's  waitin'  for  me.  I'se  ready  to  go. 

"  Mebby,  sir,  you  think  this  is  all  fool  talk. 
I'm  a  pore  ignerant  man,  ef  I  is  free,  thank 
the  Lord !  Kin  you  tell  me,  sir,  ef  you  please, 
was  it  my  mammy  all  this  time,  shore  enough  ? 
Or  is  I  'ceivin'  mysef  ?  I  see  you  don't  make 


THE   DEPARTURE.  37 

fun  of  me,  and  you's  the  fust  one  I  ever  tole  it 
all  to." 

"  No,  Archer,"  I  said,  "  I  don't  feel  like 
laughing.  I  could  never  laugh  at  a  man  for 
loving  his  mother.  What  you  saw  I  don't 
know ;  but  one  thing  is  sure,  that  it  is  your 
mother's  love,  and  your  memory  of  her,  that 
has  saved  you." 

"  Thank  you,  sir ;  that  comforts  me  and 
'courages  me.  We  don't  know  much,  nohow, 
but  I'll  go  along  steadier  for  what  you  say. 
I'm  gettin'  powerful  weak,  and  my  mammy  is 
a-waitin'  for  me." 

I  left  him  sitting  there.  It  was  his  last  day 
of  work. 


All  of  this  may  seem  trivial,  childlike,  su- 
perstitious, but  it  is  illustrative  of  the  unedu- 
cated negro  character,  when  sincere  piety  has 
taken  possession  of  it.  The  strength  and 
weakness  of  the  African  nature  as  seen  in 
American  slavery  came  from  its  implicitness 
of  faith.  We  may  smile  at  it,  but  from  it 
often  came  the  most  excellent  results.  I  have 
given  the  narrative  in  this  place,  because  it 
furnishes  the  key  to  Archer's  subsequent  his- 


38        THE   STORY   OF   ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 

tory,  and  shows  the  spirit  of  love  and  faith  in 
which  he  lived.  A  childlike  or  even  childish 
faith  may  give  birth  to  the  most  manly  charac- 
ter. Unbelief,  however  learned,  is  barren  of 
such  fruit. 


CHAPTER   III. 

LIFE   IN   MISSOURI.  — 1833-63 

THE  life  of  Archer  for  the  next  thirty  years 
varied  but  little  in  its  general  tenor  from 
that  of  the  majority  of  well-behaved  slaves  held 
in  bondage  by  kind  masters.  The  treatment 
of  slaves  in  Missouri  was  perhaps  exception- 
ally humane.  All  cruelty  or  "unnecessary" 
severity  was  frowned  upon  by  the  whole  com- 
munity. The  general  feeling  was  against  it. 

Archer's  young  master,  Mr.  Thomas  Dela- 
ney,  was  not  only  kind  and  considerate,  but  he 
was  personally  attached  to  his  servant,  who  was 
nursed  at  the  same  breast,  and  had  been  his 
constant  playmate  in  boyhood.  He  was  also 
under  promise  to  his  own  mother  and  to  Arch- 
er's mother  to  do  what  was  right  by  the  boy. 

For  three  or  four  years,  while  in  St.  Louis, 
Archer  was  hired  out  and  worked  in  a  brick- 
yard (Letcher  &  Bobbs),  at  the  end  of  which 
time  Mr.  Delaney  bought  a  farm  in  the  western 
part  of  St.  Charles  County,  and  moved  there 
39 


40       THE   STORY   OF  ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 

to  live.  Soon  after  being  settled  in  his  new 
home,  he  married  a  lady  from  Louisiana,  who 
brought  him  some  considerable  property. 
About  the  same  time,  Archer  "took  up  "with  a 
likely  colored  woman  named  Louisa,  and  was 
regularly  married  to  her  with  religious  cere- 
mony, according  to  slavery  usage  in  well-regu- 
lated Christian  families.  Louisa  belonged  to  a 
thrifty  farmer  named  Hollman,  in  the  near 
neighborhood,  on  the  border  of  St.  Charles  and 
Warren  Counties.  This  gentleman  had  learned 
what  a  faithful  fellow  Archer  was,  and  when,  a 
few  years  later,  Mr.  Delaney,  who  was  any  thing 
but  thrifty,  concluded  to  move  South,  where  his 
wife's  property  was,  he  was  easily  induced  to 
sell  Archer  at  a  high  price  to  his  neighbor, 
particularly  as  neither  of  them  was  willing  to 
separate  man  and  wife,  to  whom  several  chil- 
dren had  now  been  born.  In  fact,  this  was 
Mr.  Delaney's  chief  reason  for  selling  Archer, 
to  whom  he  was  more  and  more  attached.  It 
happened,  too,  that  Mrs.  Delaney  wanted  the 
money,  and  took  pains  to  convince  her  husband 
that  it  would  be  wrong  to  separate  the  family, 
and  that  "  Archer  would  be  sure  to  run  away 
if  they  did."  So,  from  these  mixed  motives,  "the 
sale  took  place ;  and  the  slave  husband  and  wife 


LIFE    IN    MISSOURI.  41 

were  comfortably  settled  in  their  cabin,  with  a 
growing  family  of  children,  for  more  than  twenty 
happy  years.  Their  master  was  a  religious  and 
humane  man.  He  looked  upon  slavery  as  a 
patriarchal  institution,  sanctioned  by  divine 
law,  in  no  way  inconsistent  with  the  republican 
principles  of  a  free  country,  and  that  it  was  the 
only  condition  for  which  the  colored  race  were 
providentially  fitted.  A  strange  creed, — but  if 
all  slave-owners  had  put  it  in  practice  as  kindly 
as  he  did,  we  might  possibly  in  some  small  degree 
understand  the  delusion.  Even  on  his  place, 
however,  the  bad  behavior  of  husband  or  wife, 
of  parent  or  child,  was  sometimes  punished  by 
"  sending  the  offender  away,"  which  was  a  vir- 
tual decree  of  divorce,  and  so  recognized,  not 
only  by  usage,  but  by  the  deliberate  decree  of 
the  churches.1 

For  Archer  no  such  suffering  was  in  store. 
He  was  a  faithful  man,  and  was  trusted  accord- 
ingly. As  the  trust  was  increased,  so  was  the 
trustworthiness.  He  became  a  sort  of  overseer, 
and,  as  he  said,  "  Mr.  Hollman  trusted  me 
every  way,  and  I  couldn't  do  no  other  than 
what  was  right."  Some  of  his  children  behaved 
badly,  being  over-indulged,  and  were  "sent 

l  See  Appendix  I. 


42        THE   STORY   OF   ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 

away  ;  "  but  he  didn't  seem  to  blame  his  mas- 
ter for  it.  The  heart  learns  to  bear  inevitable 
burdens. 

But  in  all  this  time  the  political  and  social 
condition  of  Missouri  was  gradually  and  rapid- 
ly changing.  The  boldly  proclaimed  Free-Soil 
doctrines  of  Thomas  H.  Benton  were  taking 
possession  of  the  public  mind.  As  early  as 
1854,  Francis  P.  Blair,  jun.,  to  whom  the  whole 
nation  owes  a  debt  of  gratitude  which  has  never 
been  adequately  acknowledged,  stood  up  in  the 
General  Assembly  at  Jefferson  City,  avowing 
himself  a  disciple  of  that  school.  He  plainly 
said  (although  it  seemed  at  the  time  like  taking 
his  life  in  his  hand  to  say  it)  "that  all  the  best 
interests  of  Missouri  demanded  the  extinction  of 
slavery;  that,  even  if  it  could  be  defended  as 
right  and  profitable  in  States  farther  south,  it 
was  simply  a  blight  and  a  curse  here."  As  time 
passed  on,  the  truth  of  such  ideas  appeared- 
more  plainly,  and  the  unprofitableness  if  not 
the  wrong  of  slavery  was  more  generally  ad- 
mitted. 

The  slaves  themselves,  or  the  more  intelli- 
gent of  them,  began  to  feel  that  there  was 
something  in  the  air  affecting  their  relation 
with  their  masters,  and  that  in  some  way  or 


LIFE   IN    MISSOURI.  43 

other  it  might  soon  be  changed  altogether. 
Many  of  them  were  removed,  either  with  their 
masters  or  by  being  sold  to  the  Southern 
States.  Many  ran  away  and  found  secure 
refuge  in  the  neighboring  Free  States  and  Ter- 
ritories. Even  on  the  best-managed  farms  a 
sense  of  uneasiness  began  to  prevail,  and  the 
uncertainty  of  slave  property  to  be  felt.  The 
slaves  felt  it  no  less  than  their  masters. 

Then  came  the  Kansas  conflict,  the  great 
struggle  for  the  extension  or  restriction  of 
slave  territory,  the  turning-point  of  true  Repub- 
lican progress,  by  which  the  whole  country  was 
thrown  into  a  paroxysm  of  excitement.  The 
terrible  complication  of  affairs  as  existing  in 
Missouri,  especially  on  its  western  borders,  was 
not  then,  and  is  not  yet,  understood  in  the  East- 
ern States.  Those  on  the  right  side,  for  free- 
dom and  humanity,  were  guilty  of  many  out- 
rageous acts  of  wrong.  The  slavery  advocates 
thereby  found  excuses  for  themselves,  and  re- 
doubled their  atrocities. 

John  Brown  of  Ossawatomie,  with  his  heroic 
ideas  of  freedom  and  philanthropy,  half  blinded 
by  the  wrongs  he  had  suffered,  forgot,  he  and 
his  followers,  that  to  do  evil  that  good  may 
come  is  under  Christian  law  a  forbidden  policy. 


44        THE    STORY    OF   ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 

He  said  he  would  "  fight  the  Devil  with  fire," 
and  did  so ;  but  that  is  not  the  law  of  the  Lord 
Jesus,  though  God  may  sometimes  overrule  it 
for  good. 

A  true  history  of  that  fierce  struggle  will 
probably  never  be  written.  There  were  no 
impartial  judges,  no  unprejudiced  witnesses,  to 
observe  or  record  the  facts.  Right-minded 
men  could  hardly  tell  where  the  lines  of  right 
and  wrong  crossed  each  other.  Living  in  St. 
Louis  the  whole  time  and  long  before,  and 
knowing  many  of  those  engaged  in  the  strife 
on  either  side,  I  thought  I  saw  both  sides  as 
they  really  were,  but,  in  truth,  I  saw  neither. 
The  complications  of  action  and  motive,  both 
right  and  wrong,  were  past  finding  out.  One 
thing,  however,  is  sure  :  that  the  right  prevailed 
at  last.  Thank  God  for  that. 

But  it  will  be  readily  understood  that  in  the 
progress  of  a  strife  that  affected,  for  good  or 
ill,  all  social  interests,  every  household  would 
be  disturbed.  The  more  intelligent  negroes, 
both  free  and  slave,  were  pretty  well  informed 
as  to  the  tendency  of  public  thought,  and,  when 
the  die  was  cast  by  the  election  of  Lincoln,  a 
vague  but  strong  hope  was  everywhere  spread- 
ing that  the  day  of  freedom  was  at  hand. 


LIFE   IN   MISSOURI.  45 

At  Archer's  home,  in  St.  Charles  County, 
close  by  St.  Louis,  the  centre  of  Free-Soil 
strength,  the  current  of  thought  circulated 
freely.  Trusted  as  he  was,  he  heard  from  day 
to  day,  from  those  who  talked  freely  in  his  pres- 
ence, what  was  going  on.  He  heard  it  without 
full  comprehension,  but  with  a  growing  convic- 
tion that  freedom  was  his  rightful  inheritance, 
under  the  law  of  Christ.  He  may  have  inherited 
something  of  that  feeling  from  his  father  Aleck, 
the  story  of  whose  hard  fate  he  well  remem- 
bered. In  fact,  he  had  remained  contented  in 
the  condition  of  slavery  more  from  religious 
motives,  as  being  the  will  of  God,  than  from 
consent  to  human  law.  At  my  first  acquaint- 
ance with  him  I  could  not  help  seeing  this. 
He  spoke  of  his  former  employer  as  Mr.  Holl- 
man,  not  master,  and  never  used  the  latter  term 
at  any  subsequent  time,  except  when  speaking 
of  his  Virginia  boyhood  life.  He  had  pretty 
well  outgrown  the  spirit  of  bondage,  and  was 
already  entered  upon  that  of  freedom.  He 
was  quite ^  prepared  to  do  his  part  in  breaking 
his  chains. 

Mr.  Hollman  was  "  a  Union  man  with 
slavery,"  not  without  it.  He  was  what  after- 
wards came  to  be  called  a  "  Haystack  Seces- 


46        THE    STORY    OF   ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 

sionist,"  staying  at  home  with  his  property,  but 
sympathizing  with  the  South  and  helping  it 
whenever  he  could  without  too  great  risk. 
After  Camp  Jackson,  in  St.  Louis,  was  broken 
up  (loth  of  May,  1861),  and  Union  troops  were 
on  their  way  to  Jefferson  City,  he  joined  a  band 
to  cut  down  or  burn  bridges  and  encumber  the 
roads,  to  intercept  or  delay  their  progress. 
Archer  knew  of  this,  and  began  to  make  up  his 
mind  that  the  time  for  action  was  near ;  but 
more  than  a  year  passed  before  it  came. 

In  the  month  of  February,  1863,  he  learned 
that  a  party  of  men  had  sawed  the  timbers  of 
abridge  in  that  neighborhood,  over  which  some 
companies  of  Union  troops  were  to  pass,  with 
view  to  their  destruction.  At  night  he  walked 
five  miles  to  the  house  of  a  well-known  Union 
man,  through  whom  the  intelligence  and  warn- 
ing were  conveyed  to  the  Union  troops,  who 
repaired  the  bridge  before  crossing  it. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

THE  ESCAPE. 

IN  some  way  the  suspicion  arose  that  Archer 
was  the  "  traitor."  Mr.  Hollman  did  not 
believe  it,  but  promised  to  bring  Archer  before 
the  committee  for  examination.  He  threatened 
Archer,  and  commanded  him  to  keep  in  the 
house  unless  he  wanted  to  be  shot,  and  the 
poor  fellow  saw  plainly  what  was  coming.  He 
was  in  a  terrible  dilemma,  —  without  money, 
without  arms,  with  nobody  to  consult,  afraid  to 
speak  even  to  his  own  wife,  in  momentary  dan- 
ger of  being  killed.  What  could  he  do  ? 

In  the  middle  of  the  night  he  got  up  quietly 
from  his  bed,  and  went  out  into  the  open  air, 
cold  and  cheerless  in  the  wintry  wind,  "  to  ask 
the  good  Lord  what  this  pore  forsaken  nigger 
should  do."  He  walked  on  for  nearly  a  mile  ; 
and  then  turned  to  retrace  his  steps.  Then, 
to  use  his  own  words,  "  The  Lord  he  answered 
me  !  It  came  on  me  like  a  flash  of  lightnin'. 
I  felt  like  I  was  stripped.  Suthin' said  inside 

47 


48       THE   STORY   OF   ARCHER  ALEXANDER. 

of  me,  *  What  you  goin'  back  for,  like  a  fool 
iclgyut,  to  be  shot  or  whipt  to  death  like  those 
fellers  whipt  Sam  last  week  ?  Go  for  your 
freedom,  ef  you  dies  for  it ! ' ' 

So  he  held  on  his  way  right  southward,  until 
he  had  crossed  the  river  at  early  daylight,  and 
then  lay  down  for  a  short  sleep  in  the  woods. 
Soon  after  starting  again,  he  fell  in  with  a  party 
of  six  or  eight  negro  men,  who,  like  himself, 
were  making  for  freedom  ;  but  at  noon  they 
were  overtaken  by  a  band  of  mounted  pursu- 
ers, who  compelled  them  to  go  back  as  runa- 
ways, to  a  tavern  on  the  south  bank  of  the 
Missouri,  which  they  reached  before  dark. 
There  the  party  concluded  to  stay  over  night. 
They  were  in  high  glee,  for  there  was  "  a  big 
prize"  offered  for  the  runaways,  whom  they 
stowed  safely  in  a  room  up  stairs,  gave  them 
cornbread  and  bacon  and  some  bad  whiskey, 
and  told  them  to  take  it  easy  and  no  harm 
would  come  to  them.  Then  they  went  them- 
selves into  the  bar-room  for  a  grand  carouse, 
which  they  kept  up  till  midnight.  The  negroes 
were  completely  disheartened.  They  eat  their 
cornbread  and  bacon  and  drank  all  the  whiskey, 
and,  laying  themselves  down  on  the  floor,  were 
soon  fast  asleep. 


THE   ESCAPE.  49 

All  except  Archer.  He  sat  down  on  a  box 
by  the  window  to  think.  He  had  noticed  that 
box  when  he  first  came  into  the  room,  for  a 
strong  cord  was  wrapped  round  it  several  times, 
and  he  thought  it  might  help  him  to  escape. 
So  he  unwrapped  it,  and  took  the  cover  off  the 
box,  which  was  filled  with  wood.  He  found  a 
knot-hole,  through  which  he  put  one  end  of  the 
rope,  and  tied  it  to  a  stick  so  as  to  keep  it  from 
slipping  when  he  should  let  himself  down  by 
it,  if  he  got  the  chance.  Then  he  knelt  down 
and  said  his  prayers,  and  "  begun  to  have  some 
hope."  He  had  drunk  no  whiskey,  but  had  eat 
all  he  could,  and  put  "  a  chunk  of  cornbread  " 
in  his  pocket. 

As  soon  as  it  was  all  quiet  down  stairs,  —  "I 
thote  they  would  never  be  done  swarin*  and 
singin',  "  —  he  softly  got  up  and  examined  the 
windows.  They  were  nailed  down  tight ;  but 
fortunately  he  had  a  small  claw-hammer  in  his 
pocket,  —  "I  allays  had  it  with  me,  and  it  was 
mighty  good  luck,"  —  and  without  any  noise  he 
drew  the  nails  carefully.  It  was  a  bright  moon- 
light night,  clear  and  fresh,  and  he  could  see 
perfectly  to  do  his  work.  Waiting  a  few  min- 
utes to  be  sure  that  all  was  quiet,  he  raised 
the  window  "  soft  and  easy."  "  Then,  "  to  use 


50       THE   STORY   OF    ARCHER    ALEXANDER. 

his  own  words,  "  I  puts  my  head  fru  de  winder 
to  see  what  kind  of  a  chance  I  had.  The 
moon  it  was  shinin'  bright  as  day,  and,  ef  you'd 
believe  me,  thar  was  the  biggest  kind  of  a  dawg 
a-walkin'  backerd  and  forrerd,  and  he  jess 
looked  up  at  me,  a-kind  o'  winkin',  as  ef  he  said, 
*  No,  you  don't!'  I  had  thote  them  slave-ketch- 
ers  had  been  mighty  keerless,  leavin'  us  up  thar 
without  a  watch,  but  now  I  onerstood  it  all. 
I  sot  down  on  the  box  jess  frustrated.  I  hadn't 
no  more  hope,  not  a  mite.  Sure  enough,  the 
Lord  had  done  forsook  me.  I  leaned  my  head 
down  on  the  winder-sill  and  cried  like  a  chile. 
How  long  it  was  I  don't  know,  but  I  'speck  I 
cried  myself  asleep,  for  when  I  looked  up  again 
I  felt  fresher  and  more  cheery-like.  The 
moon  had  gone  down  behind  the  trees,  and  the 
shadders  was  black,  but  over  to  the  east  I 
seed  the  fust  little  show  of  daylight.  I  put  my 
head  out  agin,  and  thar  was  the  dawg  settin' 
down  and  watchin'  of  me.  He  knowed  his 
business  sure.  There  didn't  seem  no  way  out 
of  it,  nohow.'* 

But  a  way  did  open  itself  most  unexpectedly, 
in  accord  with  the  nature  of  dog  and  of  man  ;  for 
suddenly  he  heard  off  in  the  woods,  three  or  four 
hundred  yards  away,  the  barking  of  a  coon. 


THE    ESCAPE.  51 

The  dog  heard  it  too,  and  that  was  too  much 
even  for  his  faithfulness.  To  tree  that  coon 
was  his  first  and  most  earnest  vocation,  and  off 
he  started  as  fast  as  his  legs  would  carry  him. 
"  Now's  my  chance,"  said  Archer  to  himself  : 
"  the  Lord  pints  the  way."  He  took  strong  hold 
of  the  rope,  dropped  himself  down  gently  to 
the  ground.  The  box  was  heavy,  but  so  was 
Archer;  and  it "  wobbled,"  and  when  he  let  go  it 
gave  a  "  ker-thump  "  on  the  floor. 

He  knew  that  this  must  wake  up  the  slave- 
catchers,  and  he  slipped  quickly  round  the  cor- 
ner of  the  house  in  the  shadow  of  it,  and  waited. 
Sure  enough,  the  door  opened  and  one  of  the 
men  came  out.  He  looked  up  at  the  window 
and  saw  the  rope  hanging  down.  Then  he 
heard  the  dog  over  in  the  woods,  and  called 
out  to  his  mates,  "  The  niggers  have  got  away, 
and  the  dog  is  after  them !  "  They  all  rushed 
out,  not  very  clear-headed  after  their  night's 
carouse,  and,  without  stopping  to  look,  "  made 
tracks  for  the  timber."  When  Archer  saw 
this,  negro-like,  he  "couldn't  help  larfin,  though 
skeered  to  death,  to  see  them  men  fooled  so 
bad  by  their  own  dawg."  But  he  wasted  no 
time,  and,  keeping  the  house  between  him  and 
them,  he  ran  "  like  a  skeered  dawg,"  until  he 


52        THE   STORY   OF   ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 

was  well  out  of  sight  before  they  could  have 
discovered  their  mistake.  At  about  a  half- 
mile's  distance  he  came  to  some  "  slashes, 
where  it  was  all  wet  and  mashy,"  and  he  "  put 
right  through  the  swamp  so  as  to  kill  the  scent." 
He  was  at  that  time  close  to  the  St.  Louis 
road ;  but  it  was  getting  light,  so  that  he  could 
see  the  tavern  that  he  had  left,  and  he  was 
afraid  to  keep  on.  He  found  a  place  where 
the  bushes  were  thick,  and  lay  down  among 
them  so  as  to  be  completely  concealed.  "  Ef 
you'd  believe  it,"  he  said,  "  I  dropt  right  off 
asleep  like  a  chile  in  its  cradle.  I  was  jess 
tired  out  and  mose  dead." 

His  hiding-place  was  well  chosen,  for  when 
he  waked,  about  ten  o'clock,  he  peeped  through 
the  bushes  and  saw  the  "  slave-ketchers  and 
their  gang "  on  their  way  from  the  tavern  to 
the  ferry-boat.  They  had  failed  or  had  not 
attempted  to  trace  him.  Still  he  was  afraid 
to  start  out  on  the  open  road,  for  some  of  the 
men  might  be  around,  watching  for  him  ;  and, 
although  he  was  "  drefful  hungry,"  he  "  kept 
right  thar  until  dark  came."  "  As  soon  as  it 
was  clear  dark  I  got  a-goin',  and  walked  steady 
all  night  along  the  road,  till  I  come  to  whar 
the  houses  begin  outside  of  St.  Louis.  The 


THE    ESCAPE.  53 

daylight  was  jess  comin'  on,  and  I  didn't  know 
what  to  do  nor  whar  to  go,  but  jess  loafed 
along  until  some  how  or  another  I  struck  that 
market-house  close  to  Bumont  Street.  I  asked 
the  butcher-man,  that  was  a  Dutchman,  for  a 
job.  He  asked  me  ef  I  was  a  runaway  nigger. 
I  tole  him  I  'speck  so.  He  larfed  and  said, 
*  You  wait  thar  and  I'll  give  you  a  chance.'  In 
about  an  hour  he  call  me  and  said  thar  was  a 
lady  who  wanted  me  to  take  her  basket  home. 
I  looked  at  the  lady,  and  she  seemed  so  kind 
and  pleasant  that  I  knowed  she  wouldn't  be 
hard  onxa  poor  feller  like  me  ;  and  then  when 
she  spoke  up  and  said,  *  Uncle,  if  you  will  take 
this  basket  home  for  me,  it  isn't  far,  I'll  give 
you  a  dime  and  a  good  breakfast,'  it  seemed 
like  a  angel  was  a-callin'  of  me."  Nor  was  he 
far  from  right. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE   CAPTURE. 

IN  the  month  of  February,  1863,  I  was  living 
with  my  family  at  Beaumont  Place,  in  what 
was  then  the  western  suburbs  of  St.  Louis. 
It  was  a  lovely  spot,  containing  about  four  acres, 
with  a  grove  of  forest-trees,  a  small  but  choice 
orchard,  a  vegetable-garden  and  lawn,  with  an 
old-fashioned  one-story  farmhouse  upon  it. 
There  were  long  porches,  a  wide  hall,  and  ram- 
bling outhouses,  that  made  the  homestead  al- 
together capacious  enough  for  a  large  family. 
In  the  months  of  April  and  May,  with  trees  in 
full  glory,  it  seemed  like  a  sort  of  paradise,  in 
contrast  with  the  noisy  and  disturbed  city.  It 
had  formerly  been  occupied  by  one  of  my  oldest 
and  dearest  friends,  Dr.  William  Beaumont  of 
the  United  States  army,  a  man  of  great  skill 
and  wide  celebrity,  whose  death  I  do  not  yet 
cease  to  mourn.  Previously  to  his  occupancy, 
it  was  the  residence  of  Gov.  Hamilton  Gamble, 
by  whom  the  house  was  built. 
54 


THE   CAPTURE.  55 

We  had  ourselves  moved  therein  May,  1861, 
just  after  the  war  of  the  Rebellion  had  broken 
out.  In  St.  Louis  it  was  indeed  a  civil  war,  a 
fratricidal  strife.  I  well  remember  when  the 
news  came  that  the  United  States  ship  "  Star  of 
the  West  "  had  been  fired  upon,  and  Fort  Sum- 
ter  attacked  by  Beauregard  (I  am  glad  that  it 
is  not  an  American  name),  in  Charleston  har- 
bor, what  intense  excitement  and  animosities 
were  aroused.  The  nearest  neighbors  were  set 
against  each  other,  and  brothers  against  broth- 
ers. Parents  and  children,  husband  and  wife, 
were  enlisted  on  different  sides.  I  had  taken 
my  stand  firmly  and  plainly,  and,  in  my  peaceful 
way,  had  enlisted  for  the  war.  After  having 
done  my  poor  best  to  prevent  it,  there  was  no 
alternative  but  to  fight  it  through.  Many  of 
our  friends  advised  us  not  to  go  outside  of  the 
city  to  live,  as  being  unsafe  in  such  a  disturbed 
condition  of  affairs  :  and  before  we  had  been  in 
our  new  home  many  days  we  were  half  of  that 
opinion  ourselves ;  for  Camp  Jackson,  organ- 
ized to  favor  State  secession,  was  but  a  half-mile 
from  us,  and,  when  broken  up  by  General  Lyon 
and  the  Home  Guards,  the  rifle-bullets  came 
close  to  our  fences.  Afterwards  the  large 
buildings  known  as  "  Uhrig's  Cave  "  were  occu- 


56       THE   STORY   OF   ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 

pied  by  volunteer  troops  under  General  B. 
Gratz  Brown.  In  their  clumsy  manoeuvres  and 
musketry  discharges,  the  balls  whistled  across 
our  grounds  to  the  no  inconsiderable  danger 
and  discomfort  of  the  family.  Yet  through  all 
the  four  years  of  strife  I  walked  to  and  from  the 
city  at  all  hours  of  day  and  night,  generally 
alone,  without  the  slightest  annoyance  or  cause 
of  fear. 

The  place  was  in  a  sadly  neglected  condition 
when  we  went  there  ;  and  all  we  could  do  in  the 
first  years  was  to  clean  up  the  grounds,  trim  the 
trees,  and  make  things  generally  look  as  if  some- 
body lived  there.  But  at  the  end  of  the  second 
year,  my  boys  and  myself  thought  we  must  have 
a  garden  and  other  improvements,  which 
prompted  us  to  the  extravagance  of  a  man-ser- 
vant, if  we  could  find  one  at  low  wages.  Accord- 
ingly, when  my  wife  went  to  market  one  morning, 
at  the  corner  of  Jefferson  Avenue  and  Market 
Street,  she  inquired  of  the  butcher  if  he  knew  of 
any  colored  man  who  wanted  such  a  place. 
He  answered,  "Yes,  madam,  I  think  I  do. 
That  boy  standing  there  came  to-day,  about  two 
hours  ago,  and  seems  clever  and  willing.  It 
would  be  charity  to  employ  him.  I'll  tell  him 
to  take  your  basket  to  your  house,  and  you  can 


THE   CAPTURE.  57 

see  what  you  think  of  him."  So  he  called  the 
"boy,"  being  a  man  of  full  fifty  years,  who 
came  forward  with  an  uneasy,  timid  look,  but 
was  ready  enough  to  take  the  basket  and  go 
with  the  lady.  She  spoke  to  him  once  or  twice 
on  the  way,  and  he  gradually  got  courage  as  he 
looked  at  her,  as  well  he  might.  When  they 
were  inside  the  gate,  he  glanced  round  with  a 
brightening  face  and  said,  "  Did  I  onerstand, 
madam,  that  you  is  wanting  a  man  to  take  keer 
of  this  place  ?  "  She  answered,  "  Yes,  can  you 
tell  me  of  one  ? "  He  looked  at  her  earnestly, 
with  the  peculiar  expression  of  the  negro  face, 
keeping  his  eyes  steadily  upon  her  while  his 
head  rolled  round,  and  answered  beseechingly, 
"  I  should  like  sech  a  place  oncommon  well 
myself,  ef  you  please,  madam,  and  I'd  serve 
you  faithful."  Following  the  lady  to  the  house, 
he  waited  in  one  of  the  outbuildings,  where  my 
son  Thomas  went  to  see  him  and  find  out  what 
he  could  do. 

"Take  care  of  horse  and  cow?"  — "Yes, 
sir."  —  "  Keep  the  grass  and  trees  in  good  order, 
and  lay  out  a  garden  ?  "  —  "  Yes,  sir,  I  kin." — 
"  Can  you  plough  ?  "  —  "  Plough,  sir  !  why,  my 
name's  for  ploughin'.  In  fac',  sir,  I'se  a  farm 
hand,  and  there  ain't  nothin'  'bout  a  farm  that  I 


53       THE    STORY   OF   ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 

don't  know,  and  ef  your  father  tries  me  he'll  be 
satisfied  sure." 

As  to  who  he  was  and  where  he  came  from, 
he  was  rather  shy.  His  name  was  "  Aleck,  and 
he  didn't  edzackly  belong  to  the  city,"  —  that 
was  all  he  would  say.  He  was  shown  into  the 
kitchen,  where  the  good-natured  Irish  cook  put 
before  him,  as  she  said,  enough  breakfast  for 
three  men,  but  he  eagerly  eat  it  all.  Poor  fel- 
low !  he  seemed  half  famished. 

In  about  half  an  hour  I  went  down  to  see 
what  I  could  make  of  him.  He  studied  my 
face  very  closely,  keeping  all  expression  out  of 
his  own,  for  several  minutes  ;  but  by  the  instinc- 
tive perception  which  the  negro  seems  to  have, 
just  as  the  dog  has  it,  he  saw  that  I  was  not 
likely  to  betray  him,  and  soon  opened  his  mind 
more  freely.  He  had  come  —  carefully  avoid- 
ing the  word  "runaway"  —  from  his  old  home 
up  in  the  State,  because  of  some  disturbance 
there.  He  left  without  telling  anybody  where 
he  was  going.  He  was  sometimes  called  Aleck, 
but  his  right  name  was  Archer  Alexander.  All 
he  wanted  was  a  quiet  place  to  work.  He 
would  take  just  what  wages  I  pleased,  and  he 
"jess  wanted  to  keep  close  to  his  self." 

Evidently  a  fugitive  slave,  one  of  the  thou- 


THE   CAPTURE.  59 

sands  who,  with  or  without  reason,  had  taken 
their  chance  for  freedom.  The  events  of  the 
previous  years  in  Missouri  had  shaken  society 
to  its  centre.  More  than  sixty  battles  or  skir- 
mishes had  taken  place  in  the  State  beside  local 
strifes,  resulting  in  over  five  thousand  killed  and 
wounded,  so  that  the  bitterness  of  war  was 
everywhere  felt.  On  every  farm  and  in  every 
household  the  possibility  of  emancipation  was 
discussed,  and  its  almost  certainty  began  to  ap- 
pear. General  Fremont's  proclamation  of  free- 
dom to  all  slaves  of  rebel  masters,  although 
unfortunately  and  unwisely  revoked  by  Presi- 
dent Lincoln,  only  foreshadowed  what  was  com- 
ing. Martial  law,  extended  over  the  State, 
practically  placed  all  fugitive  slaves  under 
protection  of  the  military  authorities.  No  one 
but  a  loyal  master  could  successfully  reclaim  a 
fugitive,  and  then  only  under  regular  civil  pro- 
cess. Such  was  the  condition  of  things  in  the 
spring  of  1863, — unsettled,  revolutionary,  with 
nothing  clearly  defined,  neither  slave  nor  slave- 
holder having  any  rights  which  they  felt  bound 
mutually  to  respect.  But  the  whole  tendency 
was  towards  freedom,  and  all  thoughtful  persons 
saw  that  it  must  there  reasonably  end. 

When  the  fugitive  Archer  had  disclosed  the 


60       THE   STORY   OF   ARCHER  ALEXANDER. 

facts,  therefore,  I  was  not  a  little  puzzled  what 
to  do.  He  said  his  master  was  "  the  worst  kind 
of  Secesh,"  and  had  helped  to  burn  down 
bridges  with  his  own  hands  to  stop  Union 
troops,  though  he  had  never  enlisted;  but  I 
had  only  his  word  for  it.  I  had  always  been 
an  advocate  for  obedience  to  law,  and  prided 
myself  upon  it,  though  an  equal  advocate  for 
freedom.  When  the  fugitive-slave  law  had 
been  enacted  by  Congress,  that  great  judicial 
blindness  of  the  South,  I  had  said  openly  in  the 
pulpit  that  I,  for  one,  could  not  obey  it,  but 
should  be  ready  to  bear  the  penalty  of  paying 
the  price  of  the  non-surrendered  slave  or  of 
the  adjudged  imprisonment.  What,  then,  was  I 
to  do  ?  I  told  him  to  stay  for  the  present,  and 
I  would  let  him  know  by  evening  whether  he 
could  have  the  place  permanently. 

Accordingly  I  went  at  once  to  the  provost- 
marshal's  office,  where  I  found  an  old  friend, 
Lieutenant-Colonel  Dick,  in  command,  and  told 
him  the  case.  He  said  he  could  do  nothing  to 
interfere  with  the  civil  law  in  its  regular  pro- 
cess, but  could  secure  me  from  violent  intru- 
sion, so  that  the  man  should  have  whatever 
advantages  the  mixed  condition  of  civil  and 
martial  laws  could  rightly  afford.  That  was 


THE  CAPTURE.  6 1 

all  I  wanted,  and  he  gave  me  the  following 
permit :  — 

The  colored  man  named  Archer  Alexander,  supposed 
to  be  the  slave  of  a  rebel  master,  is  hereby  permitted  to 
remain  in  the  service  of  W.  G.  Eliot  until  legal  right  to 
his  services  shall  be  established  by  such  party,  if  any,  as 
may  claim  them.  Not  to  exceed  thirty  days  unless  ex- 
tended. 

F.  A.  DlCK,  Lt.  Col.,  Prm.  Mar.  Gen. 
FEB.  28,  1863. 

Returning  home,  I  told  Archer  that  he  could 
stay  at  work  until  his  master  legally  claimed 
him,  and  one  of  the  outhouses  was  made  com- 
fortable for  his  use.  I  doubt  if  there  was  a 
happier  man  than  he  in  St.  Louis  when  he 
heard  the  decision.  He  went  right  to  work, 
and  by  the  end  of  two  or  three  weeks  the  whole 
family  were  attached  to  him.  He  was  quiet, 
gentle,  diligent,  and  sufficiently  intelligent. 
The  stable,  garden,  and  the  whole  grounds  soon 
felt  the  difference.  In  fact,  he  was  one  of  the 
very  best  specimens  of  the  negro  race  I  had 
ever  known,  and  I  began  to  think  if  I  couldn't 
in  some  way  secure  for  him  a  legal  right 
to  freedom.  So  I  asked  him  more  about  him- 
self, the  name  of  his  master,  where  he  had  lived, 
and  what  made  him  run  away.  He  told  me, 
among  other  things,  that  Judge  Barton  Bates 


62        THE   STORY   OF   ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 

and  family  knew  his  people,  and  had  often 
been  at  his  master's  house.  I  then  went  to 
Judge  Bates,  who  said  that  Archer's  master 
was  a  good  Christian  man,  always  kind  to  his 
"  hands,"  and  that  he  would  most  likely  do 
what  was  just  and  right,  though  he  "  was  not 
particularly  what  one  would  call  a  loyal  man" 
He  promised  to  write  to  him  at  once,  and  give 
him  my  message  ;  viz.,  that  Archer  was  at  my 
place,  and  that  I  was  willing  to  pay  his  full 
"  market  value  "  for  sake  of  setting  him  free. 
I  told  the  judge  that  I  would  go  as  high  as 
six  hundred  dollars  if  necessary ;  but  he 
answered  that  it  would  be  twice  too  much,  as 
things  were. 

The  following  is  the  letter  he  sent,  a  copy 
of  which  he  gave  to  me  a  few  days  after  :  — 

MR. . 

SIR,  —  A  gentleman  of  this  city  to-day  stated  to  me 
that  he  would  like  to  buy  your  man  Archer,  or  Archie,  if 
it  could  be  done  for  a  small  sum,  in  order  to  emancipate 
him.  He  states  that  Archie  is  determined  not  to  return 
to  you,  and  that  he  believes  he  could  not  be  compelled 
to  return.  If  you  choose  to  sell  him,  and  will  inform  me 
of  the  amount  that  you  will  take  for  him,  I  will  see  that 
the  gentleman  is  informed  of  it.  I  do  not  presume  to 
advise  or  recommend  any  thing  in  the  premises,  and  have 
no  further  agency  in  the  matter. 

Yours,  etc., 

BARTON  BATES- 


THE   CAPTURE.  63 

The  cautious  wording  of  this  letter  shows  the 
delicacy  of  the  subject  handled,  at  that  time. 
No  written  answer  came,  but  it  served  perhaps 
to  give  a  hint  to  Archer's  master  where  to  find 
him. 

After  this  I  told  Archer  that  I  was  trying 
hard  to  keep  him,  and,  in  fact,  my  mind  was  easy 
on  the  subject.  I  had  no  doubt  that  my  offer 
would  be  accepted,  as  it  would  have  been, 
under  all  the  circumstances,  by  any  reasonable 
man.  But  human  passion  is  uncalculating  of 
interest  or  right,  and  the  verbal  answer  as  re- 
ported to  me,  I  hope  incorrectly,  was  "  that  he 
didn't  mean  to  play  into  the  hands  of  any 
Yankee  Abolitionist ;  that  he'd  have  the  nig- 
ger yet,  and  take  it  out  of  his  black  hide." 

As  time  passed  I  became  anxious,  and  told 
Archer  to  keep  close  about  the  house.  The 
children  were  always  following  him  when  at 
work.  He  was  very  kind  to  them,  and  by  the 
end  of  the  month  we  were  all  as  earnest  to 
keep  him  as  he  was  to  stay.  And  so  it  came 
about,  but  not  as  I  hoped  and  expected. 

One  lovely  day,  the  last  but  one  for  which 
my  provost-marshal  protection  was  good,  at 
about  ten  o'clock,  I  went  out  as  usual  to  attend 
to  my  regular  duties  at  "  Washington  Univer- 


64       THE   STORY   OF   ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 

sity,"  and  as  I  walked  towards  the  Locust- 
street  gate  I  stopped  a  moment  to  look  at 
Archer  with  his  plough,  and  the  children  at  his 
heels.  The  plough  he  had  found  somewhere  on 
the  premises,  had  rigged  it  up  in  some  fashion, 
so  that  my  carryall-horse  and  harness  could  be 
put  to  service,  and  was  busy  to  his  heart's  con- 
tent. The  two  boys,  Christy  and  Ed.,  seven 
and  five  years  old,  and  the  one-year-old  baby, 
sister  Rose,  in  the  arms  of  Ellen  her  nurse,  were 
the  company.  As  they  came  towards  me,  and, 
reaching  the  limit  of  the  garden  lot,  the  horse 
was  turned  and  the  plough  swung  round  with  a 
scientific  flourish,  Archer  bowed,  and  said, 
"  Good-morning,  sir,"  looking  as  happy  as  free- 
dom could  make  him.  Then  they  pushed  on 
to  make  another  furrow,  the  children  shout- 
ing with  pure  enjoyment ;  and  with  the  fruit- 
trees  in  full  blossom,  the  birds  singing  in  the 
branches,  it  was  as  pretty  a  rural  picture  as 
one  can  well  imagine,  close  to  a  crowded  and 
restless  city.  Looking  just  beyond  and  ad- 
joining my  grounds,  I  saw  in  the  barrack-rooms 
of  Uhrig's  Cave  the  Union  troops  at  the  win- 
dows, within  almost  speaking  distance,  and  the 
grand  old  flag  flying  over  them.  That  gave  me 
a  feeling  of  satisfaction  and  safety. 


THE   CAPTURE.  65 

As  I  lifted  the  gate-latch,  a  butcher-built  man, 
whip  in  hand,  accosted  me,  and  asked  if  I 
hadn't  a  calf  for  sale,  as  he  saw  a  cow  in  the 
pasture.  He  had  a  hang-dog,  sneaking  look, 
not  in  keeping  with  the  day  nor  with  my 
thoughts,  and  I  answered  him  curtly  that  I  had 
not,  nor  was  I  likely  to  have.  At  the  same  time 
I  observed  a  close-covered  wagon  and  two  men 
standing  by  it,  just  across  the  street,  with 
a  rather  suspicious  appearance,  and  I  paused 
for  a  minute ;  but  as  the  butcher-looking  man 
joined  them  and  they  seemed  to  be  getting 
ready  to  move,  and  as  I  was  in  haste,  I  walked 
off  with  Hamilton's  "  Metaphysics  "  under  my 
arm,  and  my  mind  intent  upon  the  "  law  of  the 
conditioned"  and  "excluded  middle,"  —  how  to 
explain  it  to  a  dozen  not  too  eager  youths,  es- 
pecially when  I  only  half  understood  it  myself. 

At  about  one  o'clock  I  returned,  and  found 
the  whole  family  in  terrified  condition.  The 
boys  were  crying,  the  nurse  half  distracted,  and 
my  wife  calm,  as  she  always  is  in  troubled  times, 
but  with  a  suppressed  excitement  that  startled 
me.  They  thought  Archer  was  killed.  As 
soon  as  I  was  well  out  of  sight,  the  three  men 
had  come  in,  with  clubs  in  hand,  and,  getting 
close  to  where  Archer  was  working,  said,  "  Is 


66       THE   STORY   OF   ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 

your  name  Archie  ? "  —  "  Yes,  sir,  I've  no  'ca- 
sion  to  deny  my  name."  —  "  Well,  let  go  that 
horse,  you  runaway  rascal,  and  come  with  us." 
—  "  No,  sir,  I'se  here  under  pertection  of  the 
law." 

He  had  no  sooner  said  the  word  than  one  of 
them  raised  his  bludgeon  and  knocked  him 
down  with  a  blow  on  the  head.  The  others 
pulled  out  knives  and  pistols,  and  kicked  him 
in  the  face.  Then  they  handcuffed  him  and  for- 
cibly dragged  the  helpless  man  to  their  wagon, 
pushed  him  in,  and  drove  off  at  the  top  of  speed 
towards  the  city.  The  children  and  nurse  ran 
to  the  house  to  tell  the  story.  That  was  all  I 
could  learn.  They  had  caught  him,  sure  enough, 
and  had  probably  got  him  far  beyond  my  reach 
already.  But,  if  so,  it  should  not  be  for  want 
of  effort,  on  my  part,  to  rescue  him. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE   RESCUE. 

"CORTUNATELY  the  military  protection 
•••  was  still  in  force,  and,  without  taking  off 
my  hat  or  waiting  for  dinner,  I  started  with 
quick  step  for  the  provost-marshal's  office  ;  no 
more  abstractions  in  my  mind,  nor  "  law  of  the 
conditioned,"  but  a  plain  duty  to  rescue  the 
captive.  Captain  Dwight,  who  was  on  duty? 
heard  my  statement  with  great  indignation. 
The  nephew  of  Catherine  Sedgwick  was  no 
friend  of  slavery.  He  looked  at  the  "  permit," 
questioned  me  closely,  and  then  exclaimed, 
"  I'll  show  these  fellows  what  it  is  to  defy  this 
office  !  "  Two  detectives  were  summoned,  one 
of  them  named  John  Eagan,  to  whom  I  shall 
always  feel  grateful ;  and  Captain  Dwight  said, 
"  I  want  you  to  listen  to  Dr.  Eliot's  statement." 
I  repeated  it  carefully.  "  Now,"  said  he,  "  have 
you  got  your  pistols  ?  Let  me  see  them.  Six- 
shooters  ?  Well,  are  they  loaded  ?  All  right. 
Now,  one  of  you  go  down  to  the  river  and  watch 
67 


68       THE  STORY   OF  ARCHER  ALEXANDER. 

every  boat  that  leaves  or  is  ready  to  leave.  — 
You,  Eagan,  go  with  this  gentleman  to  his 
house,  find  out  all  you  can,  follow  up  the  hunt 
until  you  take  those  scoundrels  and  release  the 
man,  placing  him  again  where  he  was  taken 
from." 

"  What  shall  we  dor  captain,  if  they  refuse  to 
give  him  up  ? " 

"  Shoot  them  on  the  spot/' 

"  We  are  to  understand  that,  Captain  Dwight, 
shoot  them  on  the  spot  ?  " 

"  Yes,  shoot  them  dead  if  necessary.  Here 
is  your  written  authority  to  take  the  men." 

"  All  right,  sir,"  said  Eagan :  "  we  under- 
stand." 

Eagan  then  walked  out  with  me.  It  seemed 
ten  miles  instead  of  two  to  the  gate  where  the 
men  had  spoken  to  me  in  the  morning.  While 
I  was  describing  them  and  their  wagon,  one  of 
my  neighbors,  Mr.  Kelley,  crossed  the  street 
and  said,  "  I  can  tell  you  something  about  that. 
One  of  the  men  had  a  policeman's  star  on  his 
coat,  and  the  wagon  was  a  numbered  city  wagon. 
The  poor  devil  was  mauled  to  death,  and  they 
drove  off  quick.  I  heard  one  of  'em  say  ( jail.' 
I  was  afraid  to  interfere,  and  so  were  the  sol- 
diers, because  of  the  star." 


THE   RESCUE.  69 

Eagan  took  down  the  wagon  number,  and, 
quietly  turning  to  me,  said,  "  Make  yourself 
easy,  sir.  I'll  have  them  before  night.  They 
can't  get  away.  Where  shall  I  bring  your 
man  ? " 

"  I  shall  be  at  the  Western  Sanitary  Com- 
mission rooms,  No.  n  5th  Street,  opposite  the 
court-house,  until  ten  o'clock  this  evening;  after 
that,  here." 

"  Oh,  I'll  have  him  long  before  that."  And 
so  we  separated,  my  mind  a  little  more  at  ease, 
but  with  only  a  half-hope  at  best. 

At  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening  I  was  at  the 
Sanitary  Commission  rooms,  with  Mr.  Yeatman 
and  other  members,  busy  in  opening  several 
boxes  of  new  garments  just  received  from 
No.  13  Somerset  Street,  Boston.*  We  were 
in  urgent  need  of  them  at  the  hospitals,  and 
the  rooms  were  in  a  blaze  of  light,  so  that  we 
could  work  to  advantage.  Some  one  knocked 
loudly  at  the  street  door,  and,  looking  up,  I 
saw  the  two  police-officers  coming  in  with  a 
colored  man  between  them.  It  was  Archer. 
He  came  forward,  half  blinded  by  the  sudden 
glare  of  gaslight,  and  completely  dazed,  for 
he  had  not  known  where  they  were  taking  him. 

*  See  Appendix  II. 


70        THE   STORY   OF    ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 

I  came  from  behind  the  boxes,  and,  as  he  sud- 
denly caught  sight  of  me,  he  stopped,  and,  rais- 
ing both  his  hands,  exclaimed,  "  O  Lord  God  ! 
it's  all  right,"  and  sank  down  on  the  floor  help- 
less. "  O  Lord  Jesus,  it  was  you  that  done  it !  " 
It  seems,  as  I  learned  afterwards,  that  Eagan, 
having  some  clew  in  his  search  for  Archer's 
captors,  had  traced  them  to  the  city  jail,  and 
then,  posting  his  companion  at  a  little  distance 
outside,  went  into  the  outer  office  of  the  jail  on 
Sixth  Street,  as  if  he  had  business  there,  and 
"  in  a  promiscuous  manner  "  began  to  talk  to 
the  jailer.  The  men  whom  he  was  looking  for 
were  right  there,  sitting  at  a  table,  drinking. 
They  evidently  had  no  fear  of  being  followed, 
and  perhaps  thought  they  had  the  law  on  their 
side,  for  they  were  talking  about  their  success- 
ful day's  work.  Eagan  listened  for  a  few  min- 
utes, and  then,  telling  the  jailer  who  he  was, 
and  that  he  had  a  military  warrant  to  take 
those  men,  he  stepped  up  to  them  and  said, 
"  Where  is  that  nigger  you  are  talking  about  ?  " 
-"Oh,  he's  in  the  jail  there  all  right.  He's 
off  for  Kentucky  to-morrow.  You  never  saw 
any  thing  slicker  than  the  way  we  got  him,  right 
under  the  nose  of  that  little  abolition  preacher. 
He  was  fooled  completely."  —  "Well,"  said 


THE   RESCUE.  7 1 

Eagan,  "  that  man  was  under  military  protection, 
and  I  want  him.  And,  what's  more,  I've  got  a 
provost-marshal's  warrant  to  take  you :  so 
come  along." 

They  started  to  run,  for,  half  tipsy  as  they 
were,  they  saw  that  they  "  had  given  themselves 
away."  But  just  as  they  were  getting  out  of 
the  door,  Eagan  drew  his  pistol  and  exclaimed, 
"  You  are  dead  men  if  you  take  another  step  !  " 
Just  then  the  other  police-officer  came  for- 
ward, and,  seeing  that  they  were  trapped,  they 
gave  themselves  up  quietly.  Eagan  told  the 
jailer  to  keep  Archer  safe  until  his  return,  and 
then  took  the  captors  down  to  the  military 
prison,  5th  and  Myrtle  Streets,  where  they 
were  locked  up  for  the  night,  not  a  little  chop- 
fallen,  and  cursing  their  luck. 

The  officers  then  went  back  to  the  jail,  and 
found  Archer  handcuffed,  lying  on  the  stone 
floor  of  a  cell,  dead  asleep.  They  pushed  him 
roughly,  and  as  he  raised  his  battered  head,  only 
half  awake,  they  said,  "  Come,  get  up  here,  old 
man,  you've  got  to  go  out  of  this."  —  "  Lord, 
massa,  what  you  goin'  to  do  wid  me  ?  I'se 
mose  dead,  anyhow."  — "  Never  you  mind, 
you've  got  to  go,  and  that  quick.  Come,  get 
up."  He  rose  with  difficulty.  They  took  off 


72        THE   STORY   OF   ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 

his  handcuffs  and  led  him  out  into  the  dark 
without  a  word  of  explanation.  It  would  seem 
as  if  they  meant  to  give  him  a  sort  of  dramatic 
surprise ;  at  least,  that  was  the  effect.  The 
city  jail  was  at  that  time  only  one  block  dis- 
tant from  the  Commission  rooms,  and  when  in 
less  than  five  minutes,  not  knowing  whether 
he  was  in  the  hands  of  friends  or  enemies,  he 
came  into  the  strong  light  of  safety,  it  was  to 
him  like  passing  from  the  blackness  of  despair 
into  the  shelter  of  heaven. 

"  Why,  Archer,"  I  said  to  him,  "  you'd  clean 
given  yourself  up  for  lost,  hadn't  you  ?  "  —  "  No, 
sir, "  he  answered  solemnly,  with  tears  run- 
ning down  his  bruised  and  swollen  face.  "  No, 
sir,  I  hadn't  quite  give  up.  I  trusted  in  the 
Lord.  And  I  sort  a  knowed you  'd follow  me  up 
and  find  me."  By  ten  o'clock  he  was  quietly 
in  his  bed  at  his  usual  quarters,  and  I  thanked 
God  with  all  my  heart  that  the  captors  were 
captured  and  their  prisoner  free. 

The  next  day  I  obtained,  by  Captain  Dwight's 
advice,  an  unconditional  protection  for  Archer, 
which  placed  him  in  perfect  safety,  so  far  as  he 
could  be  in  that  uncertain  time.  I  offered  to 
pay  the  police-officers  for  their  efficient  ser- 
vices, having  obtained  permission  to  do  so ; 


THE   RESCUE.  73 

but  Eagan  said,  "  No.  They  had  done  no 
more  than  their  duty,  and  should  be  glad  to  do 
as  much  every  day."  *  The  captors  of  Archer 
were  released  as  having  acted  ignorantly  under 
the  civil  law,  not  knowing  that  he  held  a  pro- 
vost-marshal's permit. 

In  speaking  of  it  the  next  day,  Archer  said  to 
me,  "  I  don't  feel  hard  against  them,  sir,  though 
they  was  rough  and  most  killed  me.  But  what 
hurt  my  feelins  the  most  was  to  see  that  young 
man  that  showed  them  the  way  to  me.  I've 
toted  him  many  a  time  about  the  field  on  my 
back  when  I  was  ploughin'  and  doin'  my  work 
on  his  father's  place,  whar  was  my  home.  I 
didn't  think  he  could  V  done  it,  sir.  It  wa'n't 
right  in  him,  nohow.  But  the  Lord  forgive 
him  for  it.  I'se  free." 

*  I  am  glad  to  record  the  name  of  this  faithful  officer. 
His  death  occurred  in  the  month  of  May,  1885,  and  I 
visited  him  at  his  home  a  few  days  previous  to  that 
event.  He  was  a  devout  Catholic,  an  honest  man,  a 
good  citizen.  Some  years  ago,  as  his  son  informed  me, 
he  held  in  his  custody  a  very  wealthy  man,  a  noted  gam- 
bler, charged  with  aggravated  crime.  The  prisoner 
offered  him  large  sums  of  money,  up  to  fifty  thousand 
dollars,  if  he  would  connive  at  his  escape  and  suppress 
the  evidence.  John  Eagan  refused  to  do  it,  preferring 
to  remain  comparatively  poor,  but  thoroughly  honest. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

SAFETY. 

OUT  notwithstanding  the  full  protection 
••— '  papers  which  I  held,  the  state  of  social 
and  political  affairs  was  such  that  there  could 
be  no  feeling  of  security  to  any  runaway  slave. 
Missouri  was  still  a  slave  State,  and  the  conflict 
between  civil  and  martial  law  was  at  its  height. 
I  therefore  made  one  more  attempt  to  quiet  the 
"  legal  claim  to  Archer's  services  "  by  getting 
a  bill  of  sale  from  his  master,  and  addressed 
the  following  letter  to  him  :  — 

SIR, —  About  a  week  ago  I  sent  a  message  to  you  by 
Judge  Bates,  that  your  man  Archie  was  at  my  house, 
and  asking  you  to  set  a  price  on  him.  Since  that  time 
he  was  forcibly  taken  from  my  place,  but  immediately 
brought  back  by  order  of  the  provost-marshal,  under 
whose  protection  he  has  been  since  he  first  came  to  me, 
more  than  a  month  since.  He  has  now  papers  which 
will  protect  him  as  long  as  martial  law  continues.  But 
I  prefer  to  obtain  full  legal  title  to  his  services  if  I  can, 

74 


SAFETY.  75 

and  am  still  ready  to  buy  him  from  you  if  you  will  fix  a 
fair  price,  under  the  circumstances.  I  should  emanci- 
pate him  on  the  day  of  purchase.  As  to  the  price,  I  am 
willing  to  leave  it  to  Governor  Gamble  and  Judge  Bates. 
My  desire  has  been  and  is  to  do  what  is  right  in  the 
premises.  Yours,  etc., 

W.  G.  ELIOT. 

This  note  was  sent  through  Governor  Archi- 
bald Gamble,  but  no  answer  or  notice  of  it 
ever  came  in  return. 

Our  anxiety,  therefore,  continued,  and  we 
thought  it  best  for  Archer  to  be  removed  to  a 
free  State  until  the  evidently  coming  freedom 
was  fully  established  as  the  law  of  the  land. 
As  soon,  therefore,  as  he  was  recovered  from 
his  hurts,  I  gave  him  a  complete  outfit  of  new 
clothes,  which  he  had  fairly  earned,  and  took 
him  by  steamer  to  Alton,  111.  There  he  ob- 
tained a  good  place  as  farm-hand  at  the  coun- 
try home  of  one  of  my  best  friends,  William 
H.  Smith,  whose  hand  and  heart  are  and  always 
have  been  open  for  every  good  work.  Archer 
served  him  faithfully  for  six  or  seven  months, 
at  liberal  wages,  and  when  ready  to  return  he 
had  a  hundred  and  twenty  dollars  to  deposit 
in  the  Provident  Savings  Bank.  But  he  had 
been  anxious  to  get  back  to  Missouri :  for  he 
looked  to  my  place  as  home,  and  it  was  nearer 


76        THE    STORY   OF   ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 

to  his  wife  and  children.  As  soon,  therefore, 
as  things  were  sufficiently  settled  under  the 
State  gradual  emancipation  law,  enacted  June, 
1863,  he  returned  to  Beaumont  Place,  theo- 
retically, though  not  quite  yet  practically,  on 
free  soil.  I  still  held  myself  ready  to  pay 
ransom-money  to  his  master,  to  give  perfect 
rest  to  the  poor  fellow's  body  and  soul,  but 
the  opportunity  was  not  offered.  We  had 
all  by  this  time  become  so  attached  to  him, 
and  felt  so  great  respect  for  his  manly,  patient 
character,  that  we  would  have  spared  neither 
cost  nor  pains  to  secure  his  freedom  beyond 
all  possible  contingency.  He  settled  down 
quietly  to  his  work,  earning  his  wages  well, 
and  taking  care  of  every  thing  on  the  four-acre 
lot  as  if  it  were  all  his  own.  I  never  knew  a 
man,  white  or  black,  more  thoroughly  Chris- 
tian, according  to  the  measure  of  light  enjoyed, 
in  all  conduct  and  demeanor.  He  went  regu- 
larly with  me  to  the  Church  of  the  Messiah,  of 
which  I  was  pastor,  and  where  I  obtained  for 
him  the  place  of  organ-blower.  Every  month 
he  took  his  place  with  us  at  the  Communion- 
table. But  generally  he  kept  close  at  home. 
He  mixed  very  little  with  "  his  people,"  — • 
that  is,  the  colored  people  of  the  city,  —  and 


SAFETY.  77 

scarcely  ever  went  out  alone,  because  he  was 
not  yet  quite  over  the  fear  of  being  again  kid- 
napped. But  he  was  contented,  happy,  and 
grateful. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

LOUISA. 

F'ROM  time  to  time  Archer  had  word  from 
his  old  home,  through  Germans  who  lived 
in  the  neighborhood,  and  early  in  November 
(1863)  he  managed  to  send  messages  to  his 
wife  Louisa.  He  wanted  her  to  find  out  if  they 
would  sell  her  at  a  low  price,  and  sent  word  that 
he  had  money  to  pay  for  her  if  they  would. 
One  day  he  brought  a  long  letter  from  her  for 
me  to  read  to  him.  It  had  been  dictated,  and 
was  in  a  lady's  handwriting,  as  follows  •  — 

NAYLOR'S  STORE,  Nov.  16,  1863. 

MY  DEAR  HUSBAND, —  I  received  your  letter  yester- 
day, and  lost  no  time  in  asking  Mr.  Jim  if  he  would  sell 
me,  and  what  he  would  take  for  me.  He  flew  at  me,  and 
said  I  would  never  get  free  only  at  the  point  of  the 
Baynot,  and  there  was  no  use  in  my  ever  speaking  to 
him  any  mere  about  it.  I  don't  see  how  I  can  ever  get 
away  except  you  get  soldiers  to  take  me  from  the  house, 
as  he  is  watching  me  night  and  day.  If  I  can  get  away 
I  will,  but  the  people  here  are  all  afraid  to  take  me 
away.  He  is  always  abusing  Lincoln,  and  calls  him  an 

78 


LOUISA.  79 

old  Rascoll.  He  is  the  greatest  rebel  under  heaven.  It 
is  a  sin  to  have  him  loose.  He  says  if  he  had  hold  of  Lin- 
coln he  would  chop  him  up  into  mincemeat.  I  had 
good  courage  all  along  until  now,  but  now  I  am  almost 
heart-broken.  Answer  this  letter  as  soon  as  possible. 
I  am  your  affectionate  wife, 

LOUISA  ALEXANDER. 

I  asked  him  what  he  was  going  to  do  about 
it,  and  he  said  he'd  just  seen  a  German  farmer 
that  lived  close  by  where  Louisa  was,  who  said 
he'd  manage  to  get  her  away  if  she  had  any- 
where to  come  to.  "  You  see,  sir,  we've  been 
married  most  thirty  years,  and  we'se  had  ten 
chilluns,  and  we  want  to  get  togedder  mighty 
bad."  He  said  that  three  of  the  children,  one 
of  them  a  married  woman,  had  already  man- 
aged to  get  to  St.  Louis ;  and  the  youngest, 
Nellie,  was  with  her  mother,  and  would  come 
too.  His  point  was  to  know  whether,  if  they 
should  get  off,  they  might  come  there  to  stay 
with  him.  "  They  wouldn't  give  no  trouble,  and 
there's  plenty  of  room,  and  they  could  take  keer 
of  theirselves."  I  answered  him  that,  if  they 
were  well  treated,  it  would  probably  be  best  for 
them  to  stay  where  they  were ;  in  a  few  months 
freedom  was  almost  sure,  and  then  they  could 
come  and  go  as  they  pleased ;  but  if  they 


8o       THE   STORY   OF   ARCHER  ALEXANDER. 

came  I  should  not  drive  them  away,  though 
they'd  have  to  take  their  chances.  He  said  he 
knew  that,  but  the  German  had  told  him 
"Louisa  was  having  the  roughest  kind  of  a 
time,  and,  now  that  they  suspicioned  her,  her 
life  wasn't  safe  if  they  got  mad  at  her." 
There  it  rested  for  a  week  or  two,  when  it  was 
reported  one  Sunday  morning  at  breakfast- 
table,  that  Louisa  and  Nellie  had  arrived  just 
before  daylight. 

The  German  farmer  had  kept  his  word. 
He  had  told  Louisa  that  on  Saturday  even- 
ing, soon  after  sunset,  he  should  be  driving 
his  wagon  along  the  lane  near  her  cabin,  and 
that  if  they  could  manage  to  get  down  there, 
he  would  pick  them  up,  and  put  them  on  the 
road.  So  at  dusk  they  strolled  down  that 
way  separately,  without  bonnets  or  shawls,  so 
as  not  to  attract  notice.  Nellie  was  thirteen 
years  old,  a  smart  girl,  and  well  understood  the 
plan.  Meeting  at  a  place  agreed  upon,  they  only 
had  to  wait  two  or  three  minutes  before  their 
deliverer  came.  He  was  driving  an  ox-team, 
his  wagon  being  loaded  with  corn  shucks  and 
stalks  loosely  piled.  Under  these,  arranged  for 
the  purpose,  he  made  them  crawl,  and  covered 
them  up  with  skilful  carelessness,  so  that  they 


LOUISA.  8 1 

had  breathing-place,  but  were  completely  con- 
cealed. He  then  drove  on  very  leisurely,  walk- 
ing by  the  oxen,  with  good  moonlight  to  show 
the  way.  When  they  had  gone  about  a  mile, 
one  of  their  master's  family,  on  horseback,  over- 
took them,  and  asked  the  farmer  if  he  had  seen 
"two  niggers,  a  woman  and  a  gal,"  anywhere 
on  the  road.  He  stopped  his  team  a  minute, 
so  as  "  to  talk  polite,"  and  said,  "  Yes,  I  saw 
them  at  the  crossing,  as  I  came  along,  stand- 
ing, and  looking  scared-like,  as  if  they  were 
waiting  for  somebody ;  but  I  have  not  seen 
them  since"  Literal  truth  is  sometimes  the 
most  ingenious  falsehood. 

The  man  looked  up  and  down  the  road, 
turned  quickly,  and  went  back  to  see  if  he 
could  find  the  trace  in  another  direction. 

The  farmer,  chuckling  to  himself,  drove  on 
as  fast  as  his  oxen  could  travel,  and  before  day- 
light was  at  the  place  where  he  had  promised 
to  bring  his  human  freight.  Archer  paid  him 
twenty  dollars  for  his  night's  work. 

After  all,  it  was  but  small  loss  to  the  master, 
for  on  the  eleventh  day  of  January,  1865,  the 
immediate  and  total  Emancipation  Law  was 
passed  by  the  State  Convention  at  St.  Louis, 
and  Missouri  was  a  free  State.  I  was  present 


82        THE    STORY   OF   ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 

at  that  grand  consummation,  and  remember  it 
with  unspeakable  gratitude.  (See  Am.  Cyclop., 
art.  "Missouri.") 

But  Louisa's  coming  brought  peace  of  mind 
to  Archer,  who  seemed  to  hold  his  wife  and 
children  in  as  tender  regard  as  if  he  had 
been  free  from  the  beginning.  Two  others  of 
his  daughters  soon  found  him  out.  He  also 
learned  of  the  death  on  the  battle-field  of  his 
son  Tom  (named  for  his  young  master,  Thomas 
Delaney),  who  had  enlisted  in  the  Union  army, 
among  the  first  colored  recruits,  and  was  killed 
in  a  brave  charge  by  negro  troops  at  Tilton 
Head.  I  subsequently  obtained  full  record  of 
his  enlistment  and  services  and  death,  and,  on 
application  to  the  proper  authorities,  his  back 
pay  and  bounty-money  were  paid  to  Archer. 
Very  proud  was  he  that  his  son  had  served  and 
died  in  the  cause  of  freedom.  "  I  couldn't  do 
it  myself,"  he  said,  "  but  I  thank  the  Lord  my 
boy  did  it." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

FREEDOM   AND   REST. 

inOR  two  years  after  the  war  of  secession  had 
-*-  ended,  Archer  remained  in  my  service  ;  he 
then  set  up  housekeeping  for  himself.  His 
wife,  Louisa,  had  died  nearly  a  year  before, 
under  somewhat  peculiar  circumstances.  She 
became  anxious  to  visit  her  old  home  "  to  get 
her  things  ;  "  that  is,  her  bed  and  clothes,  and  lit- 
tle matters  of  furniture,  that  "  Mr.  Jim  "  sent 
word  she  could  get  if  she  would  come  for  them. 
We  advised  her  not  to  go,  as  they  were  not  worth 
much,  and  there  might  be  some  risk  involved ; 
but  she  "honed"  for  them,  and  went.  Two 
days  after  getting  there,  she  was  suddenly 
taken  sick  and  died.  The  particulars  could 
not  be  learned,  but  u  the  things "  were  sent 
down  by  the  family.  Archer  mourned  for  her 
not  quite  a  year,  and  then  married  a  young 
woman  named  Judy,  twenty-five  years  old,  with 
whom  he  moved  to  his  own  hired  house,  feeling, 
no  doubt,  that  it  was  one  more  step  of  freedom. 

83 


84       THE   STORY   OF   ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 

Their  housekeeping  was  on  a  very  small 
scale.  A  good  part  of  his  earnings  came  from 
my  family ;  and  there  were  times  of  close  pov- 
erty, though  never  of  distress.  A  long  life  of 
slavery  had  unfitted  him  for  the  sharp  competi- 
tions of  freedom  in  a  city  life,  and  in  many 
things  he  was  only  a  grown-up  child.  As  a 
mere  matter  of  physical  comfort,  his  slavery 
days  were  better,  his  work  less  wearing,  his 
daily  bread  more  easily  earned,  his  sickness 
better  cared  for.  But  he  felt  the  manliness 
of  freedom,  and  was  happy  in  it.  He  used  it, 
too,  without  abusing  it,  was  strictly  temperate, 
kept  out  of  debt,  and  was  always  ready  to  help 
others,  even  beyond  the  limit  of  prudence. 
Shiftless  and  worthless  negroes  imposed  upon 
him,  and  not  a  few  claimed  kindred  to  him- 
self or  wife.  But  he  had  in  his  humble  sphere 
a  dignified  and  happy  life,  and  was  never  un- 
faithful to  his  Christian  faith  and  principles. 

At  the  funeral  of  his  second  wife,  Judy, 
whose  death  occurred  only  a  year  before  his 
own,  when  I  was  conducting  the  services,  I 
observed,  in  the  lap  of  one  of  the  colored 
women  attending,  a  child  about  three  years  old, 
perfectly  white  and  very  pretty,  and  inquired 
afterwards  whose  it  was. 


FREEDOM    AND    REST.  85 

It  appeared  that  three  months  before,  the 
little  one  had  been  left  entirely  destitute  by 
her  mother,  who  had,  on  her  death-bed,  given 
her  up  by  a  written  paper  to  Archer  and  Judy. 
She  was  therefore,  after  a  manner,  their  legally 
adopted  child,  and  Archer  was  sadly  at  loss 
how  to  provide  for  her.  I  assumed  care  of 
her,  and  Archer  had  the  satisfaction,  some 
months  before  his  death,  of  seeing  her  well 
provided  for  in  a  home  where  she  would  be 
educated  and  trained  for  a  useful  life.  I  also 
learned  concerning  her  that  on  her  mother's 
side  she  could  claim  descent  from  a  very  respect- 
able Scotch  family ;  but  unfortunately  the  num- 
ber of  marriage  ceremonies  had  not  kept  quite 
equal  pace  with  the  genealogical  sieps,  and  the 
waif  was  unacknowledged. 

Six  months  afterwards,  when  she  was  under 
care  of  a  lady  who  treated  her  with  a  mother's 
tenderness,  Archer  asked  permission  to  visit 
her.  He  went  with  his  negro  heart  full  of 
love  and  pride,  expecting  a  loving  welcome. 
But  it  happened  that  in  all  those  months  the 
little  one,  who  was  only  four  years  old,  had 
seen  no  colored  persons,  and  she  had  quite  for- 
gotten her  kind  benefactor.  So  when  he  came 
into  the  room  with  a  broad  smile,  saying  to 


86       THE   STORY   OF   ARCHER  ALEXANDER. 

her,  "  Oh,  here  she  is !  Come  to  your  old 
daddy!"  she  did  not  know  him,  but,  half 
scared,  made  up  a  lip,  and  ran  for  shelter  to 
her  lady  protector.  Then  she  turned  and 
looked  at  him  with  big  eyes,  with  no  shadow 
of  recollection.  He  paused,  tears  ran  down 
his  cheeks,  and  he  soon  left  quite  heavy- 
hearted.  "It  cut  into  me,"  he  said  when  I 
next  saw  him :  "  it  cut  sharp  into  me  like  a 
knife.  My  feelins  was  hurt  drefful  bad. 
She'd  clean  done  forgot  me,  and  was  skeered 
at  me.  Many  a  time  I  had  hugged  her  in  my 
bosom.  But  I  ain't  of  much  account,  nohow." 

It  was  a  real  grief  to  him,  poor  fellow,  and  I 
cannot  think  of  it  now  without  pain.  He  ended 
by  saying,  "  I  thank  the  Lord  she's  got  good 
friends,  and  will  grow  up  to  be  a  lady."  It  is 
a  small  incident,  too  trifling  perhaps  for  men- 
tion ;  but  to  that  humble,  loving  heart  it  was 
a  real  and  abiding  grief. 

The  remainder  of  Archer's  troubled  life  was 
marked  by  sadness  and  suffering,  without  pos- 
sibility of  relief.  The  infirmities  of  age  were 
upon  him,  and  an  internal  rupture  prevented 
him  from  any  work  except  what  a  child  might 
have  done.  At  a  time  when  I  was  absent  from 
the  city  with  my  family,  he  had  a  severe  attack, 


FREEDOM   AND   REST.  87 

and  it  became  absolutely  necessary  for  him  to 
be  taken  to  the  city  hospital  for  the  best  sur- 
gical treatment.  At  this  the  simple-hearted 
fellow  was  sorely  mortified.  His  pride  was  as 
much  hurt  as  if  he  had  been  sent  to  the  alms- 
house  as  a  pauper.  But  he  found  himself  so 
kindly  and  generously  treated  by  Dr.  Dean 
and  assistants,  that  he  soon  became  recon- 
ciled, and  understood  that  all  was  done  for  the 
best. 

On  my  return  he  was  removed,  comparatively 
restored,  to  comfortable  rooms  near  my  resi- 
dence, where  he  was  well  nursed  and  cared 
for.  I  believe  that  he  wanted  for  nothing  that 
kindness  could  supply.  But  the  end  soon  came. 
He  gave  me  verbal  directions  for  disposal 
among  his  kindred  of  his  little  property,  a  few 
articles  of  furniture  of  small  value,  and  his  last 
words  were  a  prayer  of  thanksgiving  that  he 
died  in  freedom. 

His  funeral,  at  which  I  officiated,  took  place 
from  the  African  Methodist  Church,  on  Lucas 
Avenue,  and  was  largely  attended.  He  was 
decently  buried  in  the  Centenary  Burial-Ground, 
near  Clayton  Court-House,  followed  to  his  last 
resting-place  by  many  friends.  A  part  of  the 
expenses  of  his  long  sickness,  and  all  the 


88        THE    STORY   OF   ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 

funeral  charges,  were  defrayed  from  the  funds 
of  the  Western  Sanitary  Commission.* 

It  is  the  record  of  a  humble  life,  but  one 
which  was  conformed,  up  to  the  full  measure 
of  ability,  to  the  law  of  the  gospel.  I  have 
felt  as  proud  of  the  long-continued  friendship 
and  confidence  of  Archer  Alexander  as  of  any 
one  I  have  known. 

He  was,  I  believe,  the  last  fugitive  slave 
taken  in  Missouri  under  the  old  laws  of  slavery. 
His  freedom  came  directly  from  the  hand  of 
President  Lincoln,  by  provost-marshal  author- 
ity, and  his  own  hands  had  helped  to  break  the 
chains  that  bound  him.  His  oldest  son  had 
given  his  life  to  the  cause. 

When  I  showed  to  him  the  photographic 
picture  of  the  "  Freedom's  Memorial  "  monu- 
ment, soon  after  its  inauguration  in  Washing- 
ton, and  explained  to  him  its  meaning,  and 
that  he  would  thus  be  remembered  in  connec- 
tion with  Abraham  Lincoln,  the  emancipator 
of  his  race,  he  laughed  all  over.  He  presently 
sobered  down  and  exclaimed,  "  Now  I'se  a 
white  man !  Now  I'se  free !  I  thank  the 

*  See  Appendix  III. 


FREEDOM   AND   REST.  89 

good  Lord  that  he  has  'livered  me  from  all  my 
troubles,  and  I'se  lived  to  see  this." 

"  No  sea 

Swells  like  the  bosom  of  a  man  set  free  I 
A  wilderness  is  rich  with  liberty." 

A  monumental  stone  will  soon  be  placed  to 
mark  the  spot  where  he  was  captured  as  a 
fugitive  slave,  with  this  inscription  :  — 

ARCHER  ALEXANDER. 
FROM  SLAVERY  TO  FREEDOM,  March  30,  1863. 


CHAPTER  X. 

SLAVERY  IN  THE  BORDER  STATES. 

I  HAVE  spoken  of  slavery  in  Missouri  as  ex- 
isting in  its  mildest  form,  and  under  many 
alleviations,  by  force  of  prevailing  public  opin- 
ion. 

In  saying  this,  however,  I  do  not  mean  that 
no  cruelties,  and  no  acts  of  gross  injustice, 
were  committed  under  the  slavery  system  as  I 
have  seen  it  in  St.  Louis,  nor  that  the  public 
mind  was  so  elevated  as  to  condemn  all  such 
wrongs  by  open  censure.  That  would  be  un- 
true, and  I  speak  only  comparatively  in  my 
reference  to  the  subject.  It  would  be  pleas- 
ant to  forget  all  that  is  painful  in  the  past,  and 
to  say  of  the  institution  of  slavery  and  all 
connected  with  it,  let  the  dead  past  bury  its 
dead.  But  such  forgetting  would  be  unwise, 
and  would  have  the  effect  of  debarring  the 
rising  generation  from  many  of  the  most  impor- 
tant lessons  that  the  past  teaches.  It  would 
also  prevent  us  from  forming  a  just  estimate, 
90 


SLAVERY   IN   THE   BORDER   STATES.  91 

both  of  the  evils  from  which  as  a  people  we 
have  been  delivered,  and  of  the  national  bless- 
ings we  now  enjoy.  The  prophet  Isaiah, 
when  calling  the  attention  of  his  people  to  the 
glory  of  the  present  and  future,  says,  "  Look 
to  the  hole  of  the  pit  whence  ye  were  digged  ;  " 
and  equally  may  we  say,  when  men  are  com- 
plaining of  political  and  social  wrongs,  and 
of  the  evils  that  so  greatly  abound,  Remem- 
ber what  your  fathers  bore  ;  remember  the 
fearful  wrongs,  formerly  so  common,  defended 
by  law,  sustained  by  public  opinion,  regarded 
as  incurable,  which  have  now  become  impos- 
sible, the  record  of  which  is  now  almost  beyond 
belief. 

Notwithstanding  the  comparative  humanity 
of  slavery  as  an  institution  in  Missouri,  I  can 
truthfully  say  that  there  is  nothing  in  all  the 
scenes  of  "  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin  "  as  given  by 
Mrs.  Stowe,  to  which  I  cannot  find  a  parallel  in 
what  I  have  myself  seen  and  known  in  St. 
Louis  itself,  previously  to  the  war  of  secession. 
Let  me  enter  here  on  record  a  few  of  the  de- 
tails. 

On  my  coining  to  St.  Louis,  27th  of  Novem- 
ber, 1834,  one  of  the  first  things  I  heard  was  of 


92        THE    STORY   OF   ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 

a  colored  girl  who  had  been  whipped  so  severely 
by  a  "  gentleman  "  who  lived  not  far  from 
where  I  lodged,  that  she  died  before  night. 
The  gentleman  was  in  the  very  best  circles  as 
to  wealth  and  surroundings,  an  officer  in  the 
United  States  army,  high  in  rank,  distinguished 
in  appearance,  and  of  Herculean  strength. 
The  girl  was  suspected  of  having  stolen  a  key 
with  intention  of  rifling  the  bureau-drawers  of 
her  mistress,  and  was  whipped  to  compel  her 
to  confess.  The  gentleman  was  indicted  and 
thrown  into  jail,  where  he  was  visited  by  a 
fellow-officer  of  the  United  States  army  (his 
subordinate),  who  afterwards  became  my  inti- 
mate friend,  and  told  me  the  particulars.  By 
change  of  venue  the  case  was  carried  into  St. 
Charles  County,  and  a  verdict  of  not  guilty  was 
rendered,  although  of  the  facts  there  could  be  no 
dispute.  The  "  public  "  were  shocked,  but  the 
feeling  was  of  no  endurance.  The  gentleman's 
standing  was  not  permanently,  if  at  all,  affected. 
No  notice  of  the  transaction  was  taken  by  the 
military  authorities.  It  did  not  impede  his 
advance  to  still  higher  grades  of  military  ser- 
vice in  after  years. 

Forty-five  years  afterward,  when  thinking  of 
the  events  as  narrated,  I  could  hardly  trust  my 


SLAVERY    IN    THE    BORDER    STATES.  93 

memory,  so  atrocious  did  they  seem,  and  I 
wrote  to  the  friend  above  referred  to  for  con- 
firmation. He  replied  as  follows  :  — 

JUNE  17,  1880. 

MY  DEAR  SIR,  —  Major did  whip  a  negro  woman 

so  brutally  that  she  died  from  the  effects  of  the  whip- 
ping. My  recollection  of  the  matter  is  that  she  did  not 
die  under  the  lash,  but  was  so  lacerated  and  beaten  that 
she  was  barely  alive,  and  died  within  a  day  or  two  after 
the  whipping  :  .  .  .  was  indicted  by  the  grand  jury  for 
murder  or  manslaughter,  I  do  not  remember  which. 
He  was  put  in  the  jail  in  St.  Louis  to  await  his  trial,  and 
I  visited  him  in  jail.  I  am  strongly  of  the  impression 
that  the  indictment  was  for  murder,  and  that  bail  was 
refused ;  and  the  fact  that  he  was  put  in  jail  is  confirma- 
tory of  that  impression.  Whether  this  was  in  1834  or 
before  that,  I  do  not  remember.  He  did  not  dare  to 
come  to  trial  in  St.  Louis,  and  got  a  change  of  venue  to 
St.  Charles  County.  The  woman  was  the  slave  of  his 
wife  or  his  wife's  sister,  and  was  accused  of  having 
stolen  a  key,  which  she  denied,  and  he  whipped  her  to 
make  her  confess  it.  Several  years  afterwards,  in  con- 
versing with  a  lady,  now  Mrs.  Major  — — — ,  about  "  Uncle 
Tom's  Cabin,"  I  said,"  You  and  I  know  parallel  cases  to 
every  one  in  that  book."  She  said,  "  Yes,  except  the 
case  of  Legree."  —  "Ah,  madam,"  I  said,  "you  forget" 
.  .  .  and  she  assented. 

N.  J.   E. 

In  the  following  year,  a  free  mulatto  man, 
who  had  committed  some  petty  offence,  and 


94       THE    STORY   OF   ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 

was  known  to  be  a  troublesome  fellow,  was  in 
charge  of  two  police-officers  on  the  way  to  jail, 
which  was  then  on  Sixth  and  Chestnut  Streets, 
when  he  suddenly  drew  a  knife,  stabbed  one 
of  his  captors  fatally,  and  the  other  danger- 
ously. He  attempted  escape ;  but  it  was  on 
the  open  street,  by  the  court-house,  and  the 
cry  for  help  brought  a  crowd  who  caught  and 
carried  him  to  jail.  One  of  his  victims  died 
on  the  spot.  The  other,  known  as  a  faithful 
officer,  was  thought  to  be  dying.  Intense  ex- 
citement prevailed;  and  a  mob,  headed  by 
many  good  citizens,  went  to  the  jail,  forcibly 
took  the  negro  out,  carried  him  to  a  tree  which 
stood  where  the  Public  School  Polytechnic 
building  now  stands,  and  were  proceeding  to 
hang  him.  Some  one  cried  out,  "  BURN  HIM  ! " 
The  word  was  immediately  taken  up  by  the 
crowd.  The  man  was  tied  to  the  trunk  of  the 
tree ;  fence-rails  and  dry  wood  in  abundance 
were  brought  and  piled  up  around  him.  Sev- 
eral leading  and  prominent  men,  whom  every- 
body knew,  were  active  in  bringing  the  rails 
with  their  own  hands.  There  was  no  secrecy 
or  disguise  attempted.  The  deed  was  accom- 
plished, the  man  was  burned  to  death,  and  his 
body  (or  the  remnant  of  it)  was  left  there 


SLAVERY    IN    THE    BORDER    STATES.  95 

until  the  next  day.  Fortunately  for  me,  I  knew 
nothing  of  all  this  until  the  morning,  after 
breakfast,  when ,  I  was  sent  for  by  the  family 
of  the  wounded  officer. 

The  show  of  judicial  investigation  was  gone 
through ;  but,  although  the  names  of  a  dozen  of 
the  actors  were  known  to  everybody,  it  was 
passed  over  as  the  act  of  an  irresponsible  mob, 
and  was  freely  spoken  of  by  many  as  a  good 
warning  to  free  negroes. 

It  was  the  same  year  when  William  Lloyd 
Garrison,  whose  name  is  now  the  pride  of  Mas- 
sachusetts, was  hounded  almost  to  death,  and 
dragged  through  the  streets  of  Boston  with  a 
rope  round  his  body,  good  citizens  looking  on, 
because  of  his  too  bold  attacks  on  the  pa- 
triarchial  institution  of  the  Southern  States. 
The  roots  of  slavery  had  struck  very  deep,  and 
its  branches  were  wide-spread,  casting  dark 
shadows  over  the  whole  land.  Thank  God,  it 
was  cut  down,  and  its  roots  have  withered 
away ! 

Several  years  later,  in  1839-40,  I  was  living 
on  Market  Street,  near  Third,  just  back  of 
the  National  Hotel.  My  "study"  was  over 
the  dining-room  in  the  back  building,  the  win- 


96        THE    STORY    OF   ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 

dows  looking  out  upon  the  yard  of  a  neighbor, 
whose  house  fronted  on  Third  Street.  One 
day  I  was 'startled  by  a  terrible  scream,  and, 
going  to  the  window,  saw  under  an  open  shed 
a  young  mulatto  woman  tied  up  to  the  joist  by 
her  thumbs,  so  that  her  feet  scarcely  touched 
the  ground,  stripped  from  her  shoulders  to 
the  hips,  and  a  man  standing  by  her  with 
cowhide-whip  in  hand.  He  had  paused  for  a 
moment  from  his  scourging  to  see  if  she  would 
"  give  in."  I  opened  the  window  and  called 
out  to  him.  He  told  me  "  to  shut  up  and 
mind  my  own  business."  But  he  feared  pub- 
licity just  enough  to  untie  the  victim  and  stop 
his  brutality  for  the  time.  I  shut  up  my  book 
and  went  straight  before  the  grand  jury,  which 
was  then  in  session,  and  entered  complaint 
against  the  man,  who  was  a  person  of  fair 
respectability.  A  true  bill  was  found,  and  he 
was  brought  before  the  criminal  court  for  trial. 
The  court  was  at  the  time  held  in  the  basement 
room  of  the  Unitarian  Church,  where  I  was 
pastor,  having  been  let  for  the  purpose  while 
the  court-house  was  undergoing  repair.  (Those 
were  primitive  days  in  St.  Louis.)  I  was 
called  as  witness,  and  the  case  was  fully  proved. 
The  offence  of  the  colored  girl  was  her  un- 


SLAVERY    IN    THE    BORDER    STATES.  97 

willingness  to  "  submit  to  the  wishes  "  of  her 
master.  The  judge  charged  accordingly,  and 
there  was  no  room  for  acquittal.  Neverthe- 
less the  verdict  was  "  not  guilty,"  because,  as 
afterwards  declared,  the  penalty  fixed  by  law 
was  thought  to  be  too  severe.  It  had  been 
strongly  so  represented  by  the  counsel  for 
defendant.  Attempt  was  also  made  to  invali- 
date my  testimony  as  that  of  a  sentimental 
young  preacher  who  knew  nothing  about  sla- 
very. That  was  a  strong  point  to  make. 

Not  many  years  before  the  outbreak  of  the 
war,  when  public  opinion  had  very  much 
advanced,  an  old  colored  man  came  to  see  me 
to  ask  if  I  could  not  do  something  to  get  his 
daughter  Melinda  cut  of  the  slave-jail,  and 
prevent  her  from  being  "sold  South."  Her 
master  and  mistress  were  persons  of  high 
respectability,  members  of  an  Orthodox  Church, 
and  until  lately  she  had  always  been  treated 
kindly,  as  an  indulged  servant  who  had  grown 
up  with  the  children  of  the  household.  As  a 
child  she  had  been  their  playmate,  almost  on 
equal  terms,  as  was  not  an  uncommon  case  in 
Southern-educated  families.  But  as  the  girls 
grew  into  young  ladies,  the  slave-girl  had  not 


98        THE   STORY   OF   ARCHER    ALEXANDER. 

been  sensible  enough  to  see  the  growing  dis- 
tinction between  herself  and  them,  and  had 
become  "  sassy."  She  had  been  several  times 
very  impudent  to  her  mistress,  who  became 
angry  with  her,  and  insisted  upon  her  being 
sold ;  and  riot  only  so,  but  that  she  should  be 
sent  out  of  the  city.  Her  husband  assented, 
and  had  placed  her  in  one  of  the  slave-jails, 
at  corner  of  Sixth  and  Locust  Streets,  to  go 
with  the  next  "gang"  Southward,  where  her 
"  attractive  appearance  would  command  a 
high  price." 

The  old  man  said  all  he  wanted  was  time ; 
that  he  had  bought  his  own  freedom,  and  had 
just  finished  paying  for  himself;  that  the 
house  where  he  was  porter  would  help  him 

to  pay  for  Melinda,  if  Mr. would  only  let 

him  have  her  and  "  pay  up  gradual,"  but  that 

Mr. had  said  she'd  got  to  be  sold  out  of 

the  city.  I  told  him  that  I  didn't  know  what 
to  do  about  it,  but  that,  although  I  was  not 

acquainted  with  Mr. ,  I  would  go  and  see 

if  there  was  any  chance.  This  I  did,  and 
found  the  gentleman  in  his  counting-room  on 
Main  Street,  a  wholesale  store  of  leading 
importance.  He  received  me  very  politely ; 
and  when  I  had  explained  my  purpose,  telling 


SLAVERY    IN    THE    BORDER    STATES.  99 

him  the  condition  of  things,  I  asked  him  if  he 
would  not  sell  the  girl  on  my  guaranty,  so  that 
her  father  could  have  her,  either  in  his  own  name 
or  that  of  some  friend.  He  said  no ;  that  he 
had  promised  his  wife  to  sell  her  away  from 
the  city,  where  she  would  give  her  girls  no 
trouble ;  and  that  she  was  not  for  sale  here. 
"Well,"  I  said,  "  if  that  is  your  fixed  determina- 
tion, I  can't  help  it,  for  under  the  law  you  have 
a  right  to  do  as  you  please.  But  one  thing 
I  can  do  :  I  can  make  the  facts  known.  I 
therefore  now  offer  you  the  price,  whatever  it 
is,  that  you  expect  for  the  girl,  so  that  she  may 
stay  with  her  father."  —  "All  right,"  he  an- 
swered as  I  rose  to  leave,  "  if  you  will  come  in 
to-morrow  morning,  I'll  let  you  know."  In  the 
morning  he  agreed  to  the  proposal ;  stipulating, 
however,  that  the  bill  of  sale  should  be  made 
out  to  me,  eight  hundred  dollars  as  the  price, 
one-third  cash,  and  balance  with  eight  per  cent 
interest,  and  my  indorsement  to  the  notes.  It 
was  arranged  in  an  hour's  time,  and  for  two 
hours  thereafter  I  was  Melinda's  legal  owner.  I 
went  directly  to  the  jail,  showed  to  the  slave- 
dealer  my  bill  of  sale  and  an  order  for  delivery 
of  the  -chattel,  and  went  in  to  see  her.  She 
was  waiting,  forlorn  and  cheerless,  a  good- 


100     THE    STORY    OF   ARCHER    ALEXANDER. 

looking  girl  of  eighteen  years,  knowing  noth- 
ing of  the  transfer.  Glad  enough  was  she  to 
go  to  her  father,  who  received  her  thankfully. 
She  was  then  already  a  free  woman.  He  raised 
the  cash  payment  at  once,  and  I  never  heard 
a  syllable  of  the  notes,  which  must  have  been 
duly  provided  for  by  him. 

The  transaction,  however,  as  it  was  near 
being  completed,  was  in  substance  not  an  un- 
common one.  "  Likely  young  mulatto  gals  " 
were  apt  to  be  impudent,  and  impudence  or  un- 
manageableness  was  punishable  as  a  crime. 
St.  Louis  was  fast  becoming  a  slave-market, 
and  the  supply  was  increasing  with  the  demand. 
Often  have  I  seen  "gangs  "of  negroes  hand- 
cuffed together,  two  and  two,  going  through  the 
open  street  like  dumb  driven  cattle,  on  the  way 
to  the  steamboat  for  the  South.  Large  fortunes 
were  made  by  the  trade ;  and  some  of  those 
who  made  them,  under  thin  cover  of  agency, 
were  held  as  fit  associates  for  the  best  men  on 
'change. 

These  illustrations  of  slavery  as  it  was,  and 
as  I  have  seen  it,  are  given  in  their  simplest 
outline.  Let  them  be  dramatized,  —  not  exag- 
gerated, but  brought  out  in  the  colors  of  real 
life,  with  suffering  and  helpless  human  beings 


SLAVERY    IN    THE    BORDER    STATES.         IOI 

as  the  victims  of  legalized  brutality,  ungov- 
erned  passion,  and  unbridled  lust,  —  and  there 
is  nothing  worse  to  be  found,  in  the  "  Fool's 
Errand,"  by  Tourgee,  or  in  the  historical  pic- 
tures of  Harriet  Beecher  Stowe. 

One  other  instance  of  the  same  character, 
the  truth  of  which  I  know,  although  not  person- 
ally interested  in  its  details,  is  given  here. 

In  the  year  185-,  Mr.  M.,  a  well-known  citi- 
zen of  St.  Louis  and  a  man  of  family,  held  as 
slave  a  mulatto  woman,  personable  and  well- 
mannered,  with  whom  his  relations  were  inti- 
mate, and  two  children  were  born  to  them. 
He  then  gave  to  her  "free  papers,"  renoun- 
cing all  claim  to  her  services.  She  left  the 
city  soon  after ;  and  being  arrested  in  Peoria, 
111.,  on  suspicion  as  a  fugitive  slave,  he  sent  a 
written  statement  of  her  freedom,  on  strength 
of  which  she  was  released.  Subsequently  he 
induced  her  to  return  to  St.  Louis,  and  then 
proposed  to  renew  his  former  relations  with 
her.  She  refused,  pleading  that  she  was  a 
church-member,  a  reformed  woman,  and 
wished  to  keep  free  from  her  former  sins.  He 
then  asked  her  to  bring  her  manumission  papers 
to  him,  that  he  might  correct  some  informali- 


102     THE    STORY    OF    ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 

ties  in  them,  so  as  to  save  further  trouble. 
She  did  so,  and  he  put  them  in  the  fire.  It 
seemed  that  they  were  informal,  had  never  been 
entered  on  record,  and  had  no  legal  validity. 
Judge  Gamble,  to  whom  the  matter  was  re- 
ferred by  some  humane  persons  who  knew  the 
facts,  gave  his  opinion  that  there  was  no  legal 
remedy,  although  it  was  an  outrageous  wrong. 
"  The  claim  was  legally  perfect,  and  the  power 
of  the  master  was  absolute." 

He  took  her,  accordingly,  by  the  sheriff,  and 
placed  her  and  her  children  in  Lynch's  slave- 
jail,  with  orders  to  send  them  South  for  sale. 
They  were,  however,  temporarily  released,  and 
held  under  security  bond  for  their  return,  for 
several  months,  when,  after  the  best  legal  coun- 
sel had  exhausted  every  means  of  rescue  or 
reprieve,  the  law  compelled  their  being  again 
placed  in  the  jail,  subject  to  their  owner's  will. 
His  legal  wife,  who  knew  all  the  facts,  re- 
fused to  hear  of  any  thing  in  their  favor,  and 
urged  their  immediate  sale  to  "  a  Southern 
plantation,  where  they  should  be  well  worked." 
But  fortunately  her  own  son,  the  half-brother 
of  the  negro  woman's  children,  either  through 
compassion  or  shame,  insisted  upon  their  being 
sold  to  a  gentleman  who  had  been  active  in 


SLAVERY   IN   THE   BORDER   STATES.         103 

their  behalf,  and  by  whom  this  narrative  is 
given  to  me.  He  sent  them,  legally  manu- 
mitted, to  a  free  State ;  and  so,  as  by  special 
providence,  they  were  snatched  from  a  fate 
worse  than  death.  No  thanks  to  the  laws  of 
slavery.  I  believe  no  members  of  Mr.  M.'s 
family  now  live  in  Missouri. 

As  an  illustration  of  the  almost  impossibility 
of  securing  the  slave  from  the  worst  hardships 
of  the  system,  I  give  the  following  extract  from 
the  letter  of  a  personal  friend,  a  man  of  great 
intelligence,  and,  so  far  as  my  acquaintance 
goes,  of  unequalled  humanity. 

ST.  Louis,  Feb.  16,  1885. 

...  I  have  read  your  manuscript  carefully,  and  can 
testify  of  my  own  knowledge  that  it  is  a  perfectly  true 
and  fair  delineation  of  slavery  as  it  existed  from  the  for- 
ties down.  I  could  easily  confirm  all  you  have  said,  and 
much  more.  My  experience  commenced  in  Tennessee, 
on  a  farm,  before  I  attained  my  majority,  as  the  owner 
of  some  twenty-five  or  thirty  negroes,  men,  women,  and 
children,  all  of  whom  were  purchased,  with  one  or  two 
exceptions,  in  families,  from  one  man.  For  each  family 
I  built  a  separate  house,  and  taught  all  who  were  willing, 
to  read,  although  the  same  was  forbidden  by  law.  Four 
years  later  it  became  necessary  for  me  to  remove,  to 
take  charge  of  a  city  business-house.  I  sold  my  farm, 
and  disposed  of  all  my  negroes,  to  a  gentleman  who  had 


104        THE   STORY   OF   ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 

been  a  lifelong  friend  of  my  family,  taking  for  them  a 
mere  nominal  sum,  in  order  to  secure  them  a  good  mas- 
ter, who  would  keep  them  all  together.  My  friend  placed 
the  negroes  on  a  plantation  that  he  had  purchased  in  the 
neighborhood.  He  put  it  in  charge  of  a  kinsman  from 
a  free  State,  in  whom  he  had  confidence,  and  who  was  to 
receive,  as  compensation  for  his  services,  one-fourth  of 
the  net  earnings.  But  the  overseer  proved  to  be  a  hard 
task-master;  and  four  or  five  years  later,  in  visiting  my 
old  home,  I  called  to  see  the  purchaser  of  my  old  ser- 
vants, to  ask  about  them.  He  had  a  sad  tale  to  tell. 
Many  of  the  negroes  had  died  from  overwork  and  bad 
treatment  from  "  the  Yankee  overseer."  The  place  was 
brought  in  debt,  and  the  rest  of  them  were  sold  under 
the  hammer,  singly,  for  the  best  price  they  would  bring, 
and  scattered  far  and  wide.  So  all  my  efforts,  and  the 
pecuniary  sacrifice  which  I  made  to  keep  them  together, 
were  of  no  avail, 

It  was  this  experience  that  first  taught  me  the  inher- 
ent evils  of  slavery,  although  I  had  always  been  a  grad- 
ual emancipationist.  The  perpetration  of  other  wrongs 
that  I  witnessed  as  I  advanced  in  life  so  impressed  me 
that  I  gave  freedom  to  all  the  domestics  whom  I  owned, 
which  was  some  years  before  the  presidential  election 
of  1856. 

I  hope  to  see  your  manuscript  in  print.  Many  per- 
sons of  this  day  have  no  conception  of  what  slavery 
was,  and  how  it  was  regarded  by  very  many  very  good 
people.  Your  description  is  just  and  appreciative. 

J.  E.  Y. 


SLAVERY    IN    THE   BORDER    STATES.        105 

Nearly  all  of  those  to  whom  reference  has 
been  made,  either  directly  or  indirectly,  in  this 
chapter,  have  passed  away,  and  personal  in- 
terest in  the  special  facts  given  has  well  nigh 
ceased.  But  everywhere  in  the  former  slave 
States  the  memory  of  like  cases  of  hardship 
and  suffering  remains.  In  every  precinct, 
city,  village,  or  town,  with  whatever  diversity  of 
details,  the  same  general  record  might  be 
made. 

Therefore  it  is  that  in  the  Southern  even 
more  than  in  the  Northern  States,  the  prayer 
of  thanksgiving  continually  ascends  that  by 
the  over-ruling  providence  of  God  the  days  of 
Slavery  have  ended.  In  the  previous  pages  I 
have  said  that  no  freedman  would  consent  to 
return  to  the  best  conceivable  condition  of 
bondage  ;  equally  true  is  it  that  no  former  slave- 
holder, of  any  intelligence,  can  be  found  who 
would  consent  again  to  become  a  "  master." 
And  this,  not  chiefly  because  of  the  growing 
conviction  that  free  labor  is  most  profitable, 
but  far  more  because  of  the  moral  and  social 
deliverance  which  freedom  has  conferred.  If 
it  were  within  the  range  of  possibility  to  re- 
establish the  institution  of  slavery  as  it  was 
thirty  years  ago,  and  if  such  change  were  pro- 


106       THE    STORY    OF    ARCHER    ALEXANDER. 

posed,  the  resistance  of  the  Southern  States 
would  be  the  most  emphatic.  It  is  true  that 
"  they  have  been  led  by  a  way  they  had  not 
known  "  to  this  great  deliverance,  but  they  now 
understand  that,  in  every  sense,  it  has  become 
a  supreme  benediction. 

There  are  many  conflicting  interests,  both 
political  and  financial,  to  be  settled  between 
the  North  and  South,  for  which  there  will  be 
abundant  need  of  patience  and  mutual  forbear- 
ance. But  the  one  great  cause  of  contention 
has  been  forever  removed,  and  before  the 
present  generation  has  passed,  the  North  and 
South,  East  and  West,  will  be  the  most  closely 
united  people  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 


CHAPTER   XI. 

ELIJAH   P.   LOVEJOY. 

IN  Missouri  the  social  struggle  between  free- 
dom and  slavery  began  with  the  persecution 
and  martyrdom  of  Elijah  Parish  Love  joy,  be- 
tween the  years  1833  and  1837.  It  was  a 
tragic-  beginning,  but  less  than  thirty  years 
later  it  ended  with  the  triumphant  emancipa- 
tion decree  of  a  convention  of  the  State,  Jan. 
n,  1865,  adopted  by  almost  unanimous  vote 
(only  two  votes  in  the  negative),  as  follows  :  — 

"  Be  it  ordained  by  the  people  of  the  State  of  Missouri,  in 
convention  assembled,  That  hereafter  in  this  State  there 
shall  be  neither  slavery  nor  involuntary  servitude,  ex- 
cept in  punishment  of  crime,  whereof  the  party  shall 
have  been  duly  convicted ;  and  all  persons  held  to  ser- 
vice or  labor  as  slaves  are  hereby  declared  free." 

It  is  worthy  of  note  that  Missouri  was  the 
only  slave  State  in  the  Union,  which,  of  its  own 
accord,  thus  gave  freedom  to  its  slaves.  Presi- 
dent Lincoln's  proclamation  of  freedom  was  a 
war  measure,  taking  effect  only  in  the  seceded 
States,  and  even  there  of  doubtful  legal  valid- 
107 


I08       THE   STORY   OF   ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 

ity,  until  a  constitutional  amendment  had 
been  adopted  by  a  two-thirds  vote  of  the 
whole  Union.  Then  Kentucky  and  Maryland 
became  free  States.  But  Missouri  had  already 
been  established  as  a  free  State  by  her  own 
acts,  —  first  by  a  gradual  emancipation  ordi- 
nance, June,  1863  ;  and  finally  by  the  conclu- 
sive act  of  January,  1865. 

The  contrast  is  all  the  greater  when  we  look 
back  to  the  days  of  Elijah  P.  Lovejoy ;  and  a 
few  pages  of  that  record  may  here  not  be  out 
of  place.  I  am  indebted  for  nearly  all  the  de- 
tails to  several  recent  articles  in  the  "  Globe 
Democrat"  of  St.  Louis,  and  in  the  "  St.  Louis 
Republican,"  the  latter  of  which  are  from  the 
pen  of  Mr.  Thomas  Dimmock,  one  of  the  ablest 
editors  of  that  well-known  and  influential  jour- 
nal. 

Mr.  Lovejoy  first  came  to  St.  Louis  in  1827, 
being  at  the  time  twenty-five  years  of  age. 
"  Having  a  decided  taste  and  talent  for  jour- 
nalism, he  naturally  drifted  into  it,  and  in 
1828  became  editor  of  the  long  since  forgotten 
*  Times,'  then  advocating  the  claims  of  Henry 
Clay.  His  editorial  work  made  him  quite 
popular  with  the  Whig  party,  and  might  have 
opened  the  way  to  political  advancement ;  but 


ELIJAH    P.    LOVEJOY.  109 

in  the  winter  of  1831-32,  during  a  religious 
revival,  his  views  of  life  underwent  a  radical 
change,  and  he  united  with  the  Second  Presby- 
terian Church,  then  in  charge  of  Rev.  W.  S. 
Potts.  Believing  he  had  a  call  to  the  sacred 
office,  he  entered  the  Princeton  Theological 
School  in  the  spring  of  1832,  where  he  re- 
mained until  April,  1833,  when  he  received  his 
ministerial  credentials.  In  the  autumn  of  the 
same  year  he  returned  to  St.  Louis,  then  a  city 
of  seven  thousand  inhabitants,  and,  yielding  to 
the  solicitations  of  many  friends,  established  a 
weekly  religious  newspaper,  called  the  'Ob- 
server,' the  friends  furnishing  the  necessary 
funds,  and  the  entire  management  being  in- 
trusted to  him.  The  first  number  appeared 
Nov.  29,  1833.  In  the  spring  of  1834  he  pub- 
licly announced  his  anti-slavery  principles,  and 
thus  began  the  bitter  warfare,  which  finally 
cost  him  his  life.  He  was  not,  however,  what 
was  then  popularly  known  as  an  abolitionist. 
He  favored  gradual  emancipation,  with  the 
consent,  compensation,  and  assistance  of  the 
slave-owners  ;  and  this  should  be  considered 
in  our  estimate  of  the  character  and  conduct 
of  the  man,  and  of  those  who  hounded  him  to 
death." 


IIO        THE    STORY   OF    ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 

In  October,  1835,  an  earnest  and  affection- 
ate letter  was  addressed  to  Mr.  Lovejoy,  signed 
by  nine  of  his  principal  supporters,  all  of  whom 
were  men  of  commanding  influence  in  St. 
Louis.  Among  them  were  Archibald  Gamble, 
W.  S.  Potts,  Hamilton  R.  Gamble,  and  Beverly 
Allen.  They  represented  in  every  sense  the 
best  citizens  of  the  city  and  State.  They 
pleaded  with  him  as  Christians  and  patriots, 
ending  with  this  appeal :  "  We  do  not  claim  to 
prescribe  your  course  as  an  editor,  but  we  hope 
that  the  concurring  opinions  of  so  many  per- 
sons having  the  interests  of  your  paper  and  of 
religion  both  at  heart  may  induce  you  to  dis- 
trust your  own  judgment,  and  so  far  change 
the  character  of  the  '  Observer '  as  to  pass  over 
in  silence  every  thing  connected  with  the  sub- 
ject of  slavery." 

What  his  reply  was  may  be  understood, 
says  the  "Globe  Democrat,"  Nov.  16,  1884, 
from  the  following  memorandum  on  the  back 
of  the  original  letter,  made  only  two  weeks  be- 
fore his  death  :  — 

I  did  not  yield  to  the  wishes  here  expressed,  and  in 
consequence  have  been  persecuted  ever  since.  But  I 
have  kept  a  good  conscience  in  the  matter,  and  that  re- 
pays me  for  all  I  have  suffered,  or  can  suffer.  I  have 


ELIJAH    P.    LOVEJOY.  Ill 

sworn  eternal  opposition  to  slavery,  and,  by  the  blessing 
of  God,  I  will  never  go  back.  E.  P.  L. 

OCT.  24,  1837. 

In  July,  1836,  the  patience  of  St.  Louis  was 
exhausted,  and  Mr.  Lovejoy  having  announced 
his  intention  of  removing  to  Alton,  111.,  a  mob 
of  citizens  entered  his  office,  and  destroyed 
the  furniture,  and  scattered  the  types,  by  way 
of  a  parting  expression  of  hatred  and  con- 
tempt. As  I  remember  it,  very  few  persons, 
even  among  the  best  citizens,  expressed  either 
regret  or  condemnation. 

He  fared  no  better  in  Alton.  His  first  press 
was  destroyed  as  soon  as  landed,  and  a  second 
one  met  the  same  fate  in  the  following  August. 
The  whole  population  was  stirred  up  against 
him,  as  would  have  been  the  case  at  that  day 
in  any  town  of  the  United  States.  Meeting 
after  meeting  was  held,  at  which  his  proceed- 
ings were  denounced.  At  one  of  these  meet- 
ings, standing  quite  alone,  he  said,  — 

"  But,  gentlemen,  as  long  as  I  am  an  American  citizen, 
and  as  long  as  American  blood  runs  in  these  veins,  I 
shall  hold  myself  at  liberty  to  speak,  to  write,  and  to 
publish,  whatever  I  please  on  any  subject,  being 
amenable  to  the  laws  of  my  country  for  the  same." 

"  For  these  immortal  principles,"  says  Mr. 


112        THE   STORY    OF    ARCHER    ALEXANDER. 

Dimmock,  "Lovejoy  laid  down  his  life.  His 
perfect  honesty  and  honor  were  never  doubted, 
nor  was  his  superb  moral  and  physical  courage. 
He  was  a  rare  combination  of  bravery  and 
tenderness ;  as  brave  as  a  lion,  as  tender  as  a 
woman."  In  what  may  be  justly  regarded  as 
his  dying  appeal,  five  days  before  his  violent 
death,  in  presence  of  a  crowd  of  incensed 
enemies,  he  spoke  as  follows :  — 

"MR.  CHAIRMAN,  —  I  plant  myself  down  on  my  un- 
questionable rights,  and  the  question  to  be  decided  is, 
whether  I  am  to  be  protected  in  the  exercise  and  enjoy- 
ment of  those  rights,  —  that  is  the  question^  sir,  — 
whether  my  property  shall  be  protected;  whether  I 
shall  be  suffered  to  go  home  to  my  family  at  night  with- 
out being  assailed  and  threatened  with  tar  and  feathers, 
and  assassination;  whether  my  afflicted  wife,  whose 
life  has  been  in  jeopardy  from  continued  alarm  and  ex- 
citement, shall,  night  after  night,  be  driven  from  a  sick- 
bed into  the  garret  to  escape  the  brickbats  and  violence 
of  the  mobs, —  that,  sir,  is  the  question.  [Here  the  speaker 
burst  into  tears.]  Forgive  me,  sir,  that  I  have  thus  be- 
trayed my  weakness.  It  was  allusion  to  my  family  that 
overcame  my  feelings ;  not,  sir,  I  assure  you,  from  any 
fears  on  my  part.  I  have  no  personal  fears.  Not  that 
I  feel  able  to  contest  the  matter  with  the  whole  commu- 
nity :  I  know  perfectly  well  I  am  not.  I  know,  sir,  you 
can  tar  and  feather  me,  hang  me,  or  put  me  in  the  Mis- 
sissippi, without  the  least  difficulty.  But  what  then  ? 
Where  shall  I  go  ?  I  have  been  made  to  feel  that  if  I 


ELIJAH    P.    LOVEJOY.  113 

am  not  safe  in  Alton  I  shall  not  be  safe  anywhere.  I 
recently  visited  St.  Charles  to  bring  home  my  family. 
I  was  torn  from  their  frantic  embrace  by  a  mob.  I  have 
been  beset  day  and  night  in  Alton.  And  now,  if  I  leave 
here  and  go  elsewhere,  violence  may  overtake  me  in  my 
retreat,  and  I  have  no  more  claim  upon  the  protection 
of  any  other  community  than  I  have  upon  this ;  and  I 
have  concluded,  after  consultation  with  my  friends  and 
earnestly  seeking  counsel  of  God,  to  remain  at  Alton, 
and  here  insist  on  protection  in  the  exercise  of  my 
rights.  If  the  civil  authorities  refuse  to  protect  me,  I 
must  look  to  God ;  and  if  I  die,  I  am  determined  to 
make  my  grave  in  Alton." 

Five  days  later,  Nov.  7,  1837,  a  citizen  mob 
took  him  at  his  word,  beset  him  at  his  print- 
ing-office, and  murdered  him.  His  body  was 
privately  interred,  pains  being  taken  to  con- 
ceal the  place  of  burial,  from  fear  that  the 
mob  violence  would  desecrate  his  grave.  But 
after  the  lapse  of  many  years,  Mr,  Dimmock 
succeeded  in  finding  the  spot,  and  having  pur- 
chased the  ground,  he  has  presented  it,  in 
trust  for  the  colored  people  of  Alton,  to  Mr. 
Isaac  H.  Kelley.  It  will  be  hereafter  properly 
cared  for ;  and  at  an  early  day  a  suitable  monu- 
ment will  be  erected,  in  memory  of  the  proto- 
martyr  of  freedom,  in  the  United  States,  who 
at  the  early  age  of  thirty-five  years  gave  his 
life  in  vindication  of  the  great  cause  to  which 
he  had  consecrated  it. 


114       THE   STORY   OF   ARCHER   ALEXANDER. 

I  place  the  record  here,  partly  as  illustrative 
of  the  times  when  the  events  occurred,  but 
still  more  because  I  think  that  it  helps  to  ex- 
plain the  rapid  growth,  in  St.  Louis  and  Mis- 
souri, of  public  opinion  on  the  subjects  of 
domestic  slavery  and  freedom  of  speech.  The 
blood  of  the  martyr  is  the  seed  not  only  of 
the  Church,  but  of  truth  and  liberty.  Hundreds 
of  those  who  half  approved  of  the  outrages 
as  they  took  place,  were  led  by  sober  second 
thought  not  only  to  condemn  them,  but  to 
hate  the  cause  for  which  they  had  been  com- 
mitted. 

In  the  great  national  exodus  from  slavery 
to  freedom,  Elijah  P.  Lovejoy  was  a  pioneer, 
and  his  memory  should  be  held  in  special 
honor  to  the  last  day  of  our  national  exist- 
ence. 


APPENDIX. 


APPENDIX  I. 

RELIGIOUS  MARRIAGE  OF  SLAVES. 

THE  time  will  come  when  this  statement  will  seem 
almost  incredible.  The  usage,  considered  as  a  barbar- 
ism for  which  no  religious  defence  would  be  possible,  is 
bad  enough.  But  to  give  it  the  sanction  of  religion,  the 
religion  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  to  invoke  the  Divine  bless- 
ing upon  a  marriage  which  was  no  marriage  at  all,  but 
simply  a  concubinage  which  the  master's  word  might  at 
any  moment  invalidate,  seems  at  first  beyond  all  manner 
of  excuse.  Yet  it  was  done,  and  that  not  only  by  indi- 
vidual ministers  of  Christ,  but  by  autho,  ity  of  ecclesias- 
tical conventions.  The  resolutions  to  that  effect  went 
upon  record  in  Methodist,  Baptist,  Presbyterian 
churches,  declaring  that  the  separation  of  husband  and 
wife  under  the  laws  of  slavery,  by  the  removal  of  either 
party,  was  to  be  regarded  as  "  civil  death,"  sundering 
the  bonds,  and  leaving  both  parties  free  to  make  an- 
other marriage  contract.  Slavery,  by  necessity  of  the 
case,  abolished  all  family  ties,  —  of  husband  and  wife,  of 
parents  and  children,  of  brothers  and  sisters,  —  except  so 
far  as  the  convenience  of  the  master  might  be  suited  by 
their  recognition.  Legal  sanction  there  was  none.  But 
the  sham-service  which  the  law  scorned  to  recognize 
was  rendered  by  the  ministers  of  the  gospel  of  Christ. 
I  have  witnessed  it,  but  could  never  bring  myself  to 
take  part  in  such  pretence. 

117 


Il8  APPENDIX   I. 

And  yet  I  feel  compelled  by  truth  to  say  that,  among 
all  the  alleviations  of  slavery,  there  was  none  greater 
than  this.  While  the  nominal  relation  continued  at  all, 
it  was  made  sacred  to  the  slave  husband  and  wife,  and 
the  affectionate  African  nature  was  comforted  and  sus- 
tained by  it.  It  was  a  strong  motive  to  good  behavior, 
it  promoted  decency  in  social  intercourse,  it  tended 
towards  keeping  the  slave-family  together,  and  \vas 
some  restraint  upon  masters  —  a  great  restraint  upon 
the  better  class  of  them  —  against  arbitrary  separation 
by  sale :  in  short,  it  was  one  of  the  fearful  anomalies 
of  a  brutal  and  barbarous  social  system  existing  among 
a  civilized,  Christian  people. 

The  question  was  fully  discussed  by  the  Savannah 
River  Baptist  Association  of  Ministers  in  1835;  and  the 
decision  was,  "  that  such  separation,  among  persons 
situated  as  slaves  are,  is  civilly  a  separation  by  death, 
and  that  in  the  sight  of  God  it  would  be  so  viewed.  To 
forbid  second  marriages  in  such  case  would  be  to  expose 
the  parties  to  church  censure  for  disobedience  to  their 
masters,  and  to  the  spirit  of  that  command  which  regu- 
lates marriage  among  Christians.  The  slaves  are  not 
free  agents,  and  a  dissolution  by  death  is  not  more 
entirely  without  their  consent  and  beyond  their  control 
than  by  such  separation." 

Truly  the  logic  of  slavery  was  the  destruction  of 
humanity. 


APPENDIX  II. 

SOON  after  the  battle  at  Wilson's  Creek,  Missouri,  in 
whieh  the  Union  troops  under  General  Lyon  sustained  a 
seeming  dctr.it  luit  ;;. lined  a  real  victory,  the  sufferings 
of  our  soldiers  in  the  field  and  hospitals  were  very 
sMr.it.  and  an  appeal  for  relief  \vas  published  in  the  St. 
Louis  papers  by  the  Western  Sanitary  Commission. 
Attention  was  called  to  this  in  the  Huston  "  Ttanseript " 
by  my  sister,  Mrs.  Hannah  Dawes  Lamb,  who  volun- 
teered to  reeeive  at  her  home,  No.  13  Somerset  Street, 
all  funds  and  new  clothing  or  goods,  to  be  forwarded 
bv  Adams's  K.x  press  to  St.  Louis,  free  of  charge.  A 
most  libeial  response  was  made,  not  only  in  Boston,  but 
from  every  part  of  New  England.  Every  week  large 
boxes  were  packed,  and  remittances  of  money  daily 
tame  in,  without  speeial  agencies  or  solicitation.  In 
course  of  the  war  the  full  value,  in  money  or  new  goods, 
of  #40,000,  came  to  us  through  thai  ehannel.  Many 
thousands  of  the  sick  and  wounded,  ineludiiu;-  prisoners, 
who  weie  treated  exactly  as  our  own  men,  had  reason  to 
thank  Cod  for  the  kindly  patriotism  of  New  Falkland 
women.  Every  Boston  box  made  our  eyes  glad,  for 
every  article  sent  was  the  best  of  its  kind. 
119 


APPENDIX  III. 

THE  Western  Sanitary  Commission,  originally  estab- 
lished by  order  of  Major-General  Fremont,  and  after- 
wards recognized  and  made  permanent  by  the  secretary 
of  war,  Edwin  M.  Stanton,  is  still  in  active  working  ex- 
istence. All  of  its  members  —  James  E.  Yeatman,  J.  B. 
Johnson,  George  Partridge,  Carlos  S.  Greeley,  and  W. 
G.  Eliot —  are  yet  living.  It  has  a  residuum  of  its  funds, 
amounting  to  over  $50,000,  well  invested,  by  use  of 
which  children  and  families  of  "  Union  soldiers,"  and  at 
times  other  persons,  are  reminded  of  the  kindly  chari- 
ties that  grew  out  of  the  fearful  fratricidal  war. 

The  total  amount  in  cash  and  sanitary  stores  received 
by  the  Commission  during  the  war,  was  officially  re- 
ported at  $4,270,998.55,  the  whole  of  which  was  used  for 
the  humane  and  sanitary  purposes  for  which  it  was 
given,  the  total  costs  of  distribution  having  been  less 
than  one  per  cent.  The  surplus  above  named  was  a 
part  of  the  interest  earnings  which  accrued  from  the  ex- 
cellent management  of  the  treasurer,  Carlos  S.  Greeley. 

Besides  the  hospital  work  for  the  sick  and  wounded, 
the  Western  Sanitary  Commission  was  intrusted  by  the 
authorities  with  the  care  and  relief  of  Union  refugees, 
and  of  fugitive  slaves  from  the  South.  Many  thou- 
sands of  both  these  classes  of  sufferers  thronged  to  St. 
Louis,  generally  in  wretched  condition,  not  only  im- 
poverished, but  thriftless  and  inefficient.  In  one  way 
or  another  they  were  taken  care  of  until  some  sort  of 
120 


APPENDIX    III.  121 

work  was  found  by  which  they  could  earn  their  bread. 
Special  funds  were  liberally  contributed,  chiefly  from 
New  England,  for  such  uses. 

Throughout  the  war,  quite  up  to  its  close  in  1865, 
many  of  the  orders  issued  by  the  president  of  the  Com- 
mission were  signed,  "  By  order  of  Major-General  J.  C. 
Fremont,"  being  regarded  by  his  successors  as  outside 
of  army  regulations,  and  beyond  the  authority  usually 
exercised  by  generals  in  command.  In  fact,  when  I  first 
submitted  the  form  of  organization  to  Dr.  De  Camp, 
United  States  medical  director,  Sept.  5,  1861,  he 
promptly  said  that  it  was  unusual  and  irregular,  but 
that  it  would  be  of  great  service  if  authorized  by  the 
commanding  general,  and  that  he  would  in  that  case 
gladly  co-operate  with  the  Commission,  all  the  members 
of  which  were  known  to  him.  With  this  indorsement,  I 
took  it  directly  to  headquarters,  where,  at  my  request,  it 
was  copied  by  Mrs.  Fremont,  and  taken  by  her  to  the 
general's  office.  He  was  surrounded  by  earnest  and 
excited  friends,  having  just  received  the  countermand  of 
his  proclamation  of  conditional  emancipation  in  Mis- 
souri; but  he  examined  it,  and,  after  learning  that  it 
met  the  approval  of  the  medical  director,  he  submitted 
it  to  the  examination ,  of  his  chief  of  staff,  and  then 
signed  it.  I  have  that  original  copy,  in  Mrs.  Fremont's 
handwriting,  now. 

When  General  Halleck  succeeded  in  command,  I  took 
it  to  him,  having  first  fortified  myself  by  letters  from 
President  Lincoln  and  Secretary  Chase,  to  prevent  an 
immediate  veto.  He  read  it,  and  said  that,  although  he 
could  not  have  originated  such  an  order,  he  saw  how 
useful  it  would  be  if  in  good  hands,  and  should  not 
countermand  it  unless  sufficient  reason  should  appear ; 


122  APPENDIX    III. 

that  the  Commission  could  go  on  with  its  work  under 
the  order  already  obtained.  From  that  time  forward, 
under  General  Halleck  and  all  his  successors  in  com- 
mand, the  services  of  the  Commission  were  freely  used. 
The  funds  rapidly  increased,  and  sanitary  supplies  were 
freely  distributed  wherever  needed,  from  Missouri  to 
Chattanooga,  and  far  beyond.  By  the  wonderful  effi- 
ciency of  the  president,  James  E.  Yeatman,  who  devoted 
his  whole  time  and  strength  to  the  work,  results  were 
obtained  which  would  at  first  have  seemed  impossible. 
The  cordial  testimony  of  Generals  Grant  and  Sherman 
and  Curtis,  and  many  others,  was  frequently  and  pub- 
licly given  to  this  effect. 

It  may  be  that  General  Fremont  overstepped  the. 
limits  of  army  regulations  in  authorizing  the  Commis- 
sion. When  the  rough  draught  was  prepared,  I  knew 
nothing  about  such  regulations,  and  know  but  little 
now.  But  I  knew  the  need  of  our  suffering  men,  and 
the  deplorable  inadequacy  of  the  means  for  their  relief. 
In  making  provision  for  such  relief  under  existing  exi- 
gencies, General  Fremont  acted  under  the  dictates  of 
humanity  and  common  sense. 

It  is  my  confident  opinion,  from  familiarity  with  all 
the  facts  at  the  time,  that  if  his  emancipation  order  had 
been  equally  sustained,  notwithstanding  its  alleged 
irregularity,  instead  of  being  countermanded  with  cen- 
sure, the  State  of  Missouri  would  have  been  saved  from 
more  than  two  years  of  destructive  guerilla  warfare. 
Even  as  it  was,  that  order  was  the  first  keynote  to 
the  emancipation  policy,  which  soon  after  prevailed. 
Time  sets  all  things  right,  and  honor  will  ultimately  be 
given  to  whom  honor  is  due.  The  whole  administration 
of  Genera]  Fremont  in  Missouri  has  been  severely  criti- 


APPENDIX   III.  123 

cised.  But  I  anxiously  watched  it  from  beginning  to  end, 
and  after  carefully  reading  the  scrutinizing  report  of  the 
Congressional  Committee,  the  members  of  which  were  by 
no  means  partial  to  Fremont,  interpreting  the  testimony 
by  my  own  knowledge  of  the  facts  as  they  transpired, 
I  would  sum  up  the  whole  record  in  a  single  sentence  : 
Whatever  criticism  of  details  may  be  just,  he  found  Mis- 
souri trembling  in  the  balance,  between  loyalty  and  se- 
cession, with  alarming  probabilities  in  the  wrong  direc- 
tion ;  at  the  end  of  three  months  he  left  it,  although  with 
great  difficulties  yet  to  be  encountered,  as  secure  to  the 
Union  as  Massachusetts  itself,  with  slavery  already  fore- 
doomed. To  whom  the  credit  belongs,  let  impartial 
history  show. 


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Eliot,  W.G.  A37 

The  story  of  Archer 
Alexander;  from  slavery 
to  freedom. 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
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